


Trial Separation

by Raynbowz



Series: Adora series [1]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drama and Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-03
Updated: 2015-01-04
Packaged: 2018-02-11 14:44:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 35,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2072202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raynbowz/pseuds/Raynbowz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor is still getting over the death of the Master when a new Time Lord shows up--his wife.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to smaugwithablog for beta-ing, and D for just about everything. Enjoy!

Trial Separation  
A Doctor Who story

1—A Nasty Shock

Warm water cascaded down the Tenth Doctor's back as he showered; it had been a grueling week for him and he had wanted to wash up even before he moved the TARDIS. He stepped out, dried off and got dressed in a clean suit. After that he went to the Console Room and tried to decide where to go to next. He'd spent the last year in the Erubis Cluster, and the year before that exploring the Wesachi galaxy, deliberately staying away from Earth. His current arrest and daring escape after freeing a civilization enthralled by a Hexricon had been par for the course except for the slime, hence the shower. He thought about using the Randomizer, but just wasn't in the mood. He sat down on the jump seat and mused, wishing he weren't so melancholy, but it was to be expected; it was The Anniversary. Two years ago in linear time the Master had died.

Two years. He wondered if he would feel this way in five years or ten, or a hundred. How long would it take him to get over losing the last existing member of his species, his only link with someone who knew him and the context through which he viewed the cosmos? When would he be able to fill or be accustomed to that kind of loneliness? His plan had been to follow the routine—land on a planet, get involved in some sort of disturbance, disaster, or uprising, get to the bottom of the matter and sort it all out, and then leave. Unfortunately he'd been following the pattern for two linear years now and the pain felt as wrenching as it had the first day.

_Stop it,_ he told himself sharply. _I don't have to be alone. I'll go visit someone, someone who might cheer me up. I know! I'll go and pop in on Jack; he's used to the unexpected._

He set the coordinates to Earth in 2014 and was about to materialize when one of the TARDIS' scanning screens started blinking. He looked, and saw something interesting—he had picked up the life signs of another TARDIS. He sighed morosely; it was the Master's TARDIS, had to be. He must have parked it on Earth and now that the Master was dead, it . . .

The Doctor stopped his line of thought, pondering. If the Master had had a working TARDIS, he wouldn't have needed to use the Doctor's to make a Paradox Machine; he could have used his own. Moreover, he wouldn't have used the Toclafane to hunt down Martha Jones; all he would have had to do was prime his TARDIS to lock onto her DNA and she would have been found almost instantly. It was wrong, something was wrong with his thesis; this couldn't possibly be the Master's TARDIS. That left only one conclusion: there was another TARDIS on Earth, meaning there might be another Time Lord on the planet.

The Doctor quickly locked on to the signal and changed the coordinates appropriately. He also did a scan for Gallifreyan life signs and found nothing. Well, he thought, the poor TARDIS was probably abandoned ages ago and the perception filter had finally broken down. He did one last sensor sweep and materialized his TARDIS as close as he could get to the other craft. He grabbed his coat, took a deep breath, and opened the door.

When he stepped out, he found himself outdoors with a large garage twenty feet in front of him, and another, smaller one about fifty feet behind him. There were little outbuildings to his right and a compact, rounded A-frame house to his left. It was cold though sunny, and there were traces of snow on the ground. All the buildings were painted a deep, rich brown nearly the color of his eyes, while a well-worn driveway of crushed grey stone went winding off and out of sight. The house and garages had light brown shingles on the roofs. The two smaller sheds seemed to be made of slabs of wood right off the trees, almost like log cabins, and they had black shingles on top. There didn't seem to be anyone else around.

The Doctor took out his sonic screwdriver and started exploring. To his annoyance, he couldn't find the location of the other TARDIS. He should have been able to detect it easily, even if the perception filter was still active; why couldn't he find the dratted thing? He marched back into the TARDIS and brought out a hand scanner, more powerful than his screwdriver and able to pick up the faintest trace of signal, but he still couldn't lock it down; how frustrating! How was that TARDIS being hidden? It wasn't a perception filter, it wasn't plain physical disguise, what? Finally The Doctor took another reading and realized the location signal was being bounced back and forth between two or three different harmonics; someone was using a triangulating mask to hide the vehicle. He wouldn't be able to find it without shutting the mask off first. He went back in his TARDIS and looked for possible sources of power links between here and the first signals he had gotten pinpointing the other TARDIS. Finding a suspicious pattern in the harmonics, he set his TARDIS and materialized to the new location.

When he opened the door he was inside a small room on the second floor of some building. The room had almost nothing in it. There was a box of linens and towels in one corner, and a box with books in another. He snooped around and found what looked like a toolbox on a shelf in the closet. He took it down and found what he had been seeking—the controls for the triangulating mask. He was about to open the box the array was in, but something stopped him. He examined it more thoroughly and found that if he tampered with it too much, the box, and the TARDIS on the other end would explode. The Doctor sighed and put it back where he had found it. It had been a good thing he hadn't rattled it around too much; this type of fail-safe was usually rather sensitive to movement or “exploration”. 

He wandered through what had to be an apartment. There were the usual things like clothes and a bed, appliances for the kitchen, a sofa in the living room. He also found signs that the person living here could easily be a Time Lord hiding in a bio-data watch, just as the Master had been. There were very few possessions, and none of a personal nature, no photos or personal correspondence, no birth certificates or family information. All the bills in the small filing drawer only went back a few months, there was no television or computer, and the place didn't _feel_ lived in. He took one more look around then stopped rummaging; he'd found all that he was going to and now he just had to wait.

*****  
Late in the evening a light that must have been on a timer switched on. A few minutes later he heard someone coming up the stairs. He didn't try to hide; he just sat on the couch and waited. The door opened and revealed a middle-age woman with limp, greying light brown hair and a black coat. Her blue eyes were weary, hidden behind thick lenses, and she looked very thin, perhaps even beyond thin. She didn't seem either surprised or afraid; she just nodded and put down her bag. “You'll want to come with me,” she told him.

“You were expecting me? You knew I would come?” The Doctor was shocked.

“I knew something was coming, but I thought you would be a little more . . .”

“Impressive? Stocky? Academic?”

“Terrifying. Never mind; you need to come with me in the morning.”

The Doctor was puzzled. “Why not go now?”

“It's late and I don't want to have to drive in the dark.”

“We don't need to drive,” the Doctor protested. “I have transportation—it's in the other room. We can go right away . . .”

The woman shook her head. “I'm not ready.”

“Just take a look at it,” the Doctor pleaded, standing and urging her to the other room. “It'll save so much time . . .”

The woman looked into the room, blanched, and said in a faint but determined voice, “No. I won't go anywhere in that.”

The Doctor was going to speak, but the woman held up a hand. “Please . . . you have invaded my home. Don't plan on kidnapping me as easily.”

“Fine,” the Doctor huffed, “in the morning.” He didn't like it, but the woman was telling the truth; he would have problems if he tried to take her away by force. He went back to the couch while the woman turned on a light for him in the living room.

“Would you like something to eat?” she asked.

“Sure,” the Doctor told her.

She gave him an apple but didn't eat herself; she just took a handful of pills with some water. The Doctor wondered, but didn't say anything; it wasn't his business. Something was bothering him; he finally asked, “You're not the least bit curious as to who I am, where I'm from?”

The woman shrugged. “Does it matter? I'm sure we can figure it out in the morning. For now I've had a long day and want to unwind. I hope the couch is good enough to sleep on . . .”

“Oh, I won't need sleep. But don't feel uneasy about resting yourself, I'll—”

The woman looked directly into his eyes and said firmly, “You are a strange man in my house; I have no intention of going to sleep. You could do anything.”

She grabbed a book from a prodigious bookshelf and sat down in a chair opposite the Doctor, then ignored him. He was unused to being dismissed in such a fashion, but didn't complain. She knew nothing about him and didn't owe him anything. 

It was a long night.

*****  
In the morning, the woman drove the Doctor out to an unknown destination. She had asked if he wanted her to feed him, but he dismissed the offer with a shake of his head. He waited a bit impatiently while she got a few things together, then got into her electric blue car. The drive was very similar to the night they had just spent together; neither spoke or acted like the other was even there. This upset the Doctor slightly, but he knew he was partially to blame himself; he had not asked the woman's name or been forthcoming with his own, after all. Best to leave it now.

The drove for nearly an hour, getting further and further from urban areas as they went along. As they went along he noticed wildlife like deer and groundhogs and many types of birds. He appreciated the view; it gave him something to think about other than the uncomfortable silence. They finally pulled into a narrow driveway of grey crushed stone. They wound and twisted back into the woods until they reached . . . wait a minute . . . they were back where he had started! Here was the rounded house, the two outbuildings, the two garages, everything! “What is the meaning of this?” he demanded indignantly.

“What do you mean?” the woman asked, confused.

The Doctor's frustration just kept building. “Why are we here? I've already been here. I thought you were taking me somewhere I could find some answers and instead . . .” 

He knocked over a bag that had been between them as they drove. Stuff tumbled out of the bag, including . . . there it was—a bio-data watch! He snatched it up then got out of the car and slammed the door behind him, quickly locking the woman in the car with the sonic screwdriver. He marched around to the driver's side of the vehicle, then stopped to consider what to do next. He decided to open the watch immediately; that would give him time to make the next move with his enemy reasonably contained. Squatting down close to the door of the car, he opened the watch and waited. When the process was complete he looked into the car and was so surprised he lost his balance and landed on his rear. The Time Lady was his wife, Maraltha-Hedronisicalimar!


	2. Chapter 2

2—A Long, Sad Story

The woman in the car banged on the window impotently as the strange man locked her in. She watched as he came around to her side, then felt something hot seep into every pore of her, burning as it went. She screamed, screamed . . .

. . . and remembered.

She had been a Time Lady named Maraltha-Hedronisicalimar. Everyone had called her Hedron. She was ambitious, dignified, proper, power-hungry. Even her misguided marriage to a complete enigma hadn't slowed her down. By the end of her second life, first regeneration, her troublesome husband had disappeared and she was poised to be placed on the High Council of Gallifrey and make herself a legend.  
But it didn't happen as she'd planned. One night a Time Lord from the far future came as she read in her study and begged her to take on what she considered a noisome task—find her husband and plead with him to come back to Gallifrey. She was to ask him to help the Time Lords take on the Daleks, who were apparently on the edge of wiping out the entire cosmos. She didn't want to, but she agreed to go. She was outfitted with the newest TARDIS available, some clues on how to find the regeneration of her husband she was looking for, and thus prepared went on her mission.

She landed first in London in the early 1990's, but before she could find the Doctor she was captured by Torchwood One. She got away by activating the fail-safe she had built into her shoe so she could have her TARDIS materialize around her. She had planned to get clear away to Gallifrey and go back with her mission failed, but her TARDIS had barely enough power to land her back on Earth in a different time and place. Fearful she would be followed, she used the Chameleon Circuit on her TARDIS to hide it, then used the Chameleon Arch to make herself human. She'd led a quiet life with her husband James, an architect. Near the end of that life she found a letter that told her who she truly was, and she went back to her TARDIS and opened her bio-data watch . . . 

Names, places, purposes—she recalled it all. More than that, she put it into perspective. Chilling perspective. She remembered her first life on a planet with an orange sky and red grass, and a transduction barrier over a high dome. She remembered a man called Gantoris-Althetalorenthidon, who wasn't like the rest. They had married to improve both families' political standing, but even before the ink on the certificate was dry she knew his quirks and ideals would be a great problem. He had the audacity to say he “loved” her! How primitive, how unexpected, how . . . insulting! She had power, position, and privilege; who needed love?

But now she knew what she had been offered—and how she had responded.

She thought back to those days, thinking of Theta's refusal to be a part of the political sphere (wasn't that why they had married in the first place?), his unending concern for those beneath him. Finally he decided to leave for a survey mission on a backward planet called Earth just to get away from the fights, the expectations.

But all that was nothing compared to how he was when he came back.

He had changed his name to some base, Earth term for someone who could heal. Worse than that, he told her he wanted to heal her. How impudent! There was nothing wrong with her, she stormed. The very idea was ridiculous. He even insisted on raising the children at home until they were Initiated, with him as their teacher. Whoever heard of such a ludicrous arrangement! She had only a decade or two before she would be on the High Council. She pleaded with him, begged him to keep his ideas and eccentricities to himself for at least that long. All she needed was one wrong step by him to derail her and she would be done. She reined him in as much as she could, turned the children away from him, dismissed him as an outcast, until . . .

Until the day he took Susan and vanished.

And now she had failed twice. Not only had she failed at her goal to get his help in the war effort, she realized she had been wrong. Wrong about his motives, his ideals, his dreams—and also her own.

She wept until she couldn't stand up any more, and flopped down next to her TARDIS. She wept until her eyes were so puffy they almost seemed to swell shut. She wept until there were no more tears in her, and then she moaned instead.

Well, it was too late now. Far, far too late.

She went into her TARDIS and did a quick scan for Gallifreyan tech on the planet but found nothing. She then tried scanning for any communications originating from her home planet. Again, nothing. Gallifrey had fallen, she was sure of it. It would only be a matter of time before the Daleks took over everything. 

Well, the worst would come but there was no need for her to be burdened with the fact. She took some old parts she found in her TARDIS and made a triangulating mask to hide it so the Daleks wouldn't get it. She set up the mask in a box for transport, regenerated, and then went to the Chameleon Arch to program in a name for when she came out of the process. Her new name would be Adora—the word in Gallifreyan meant “mistaken”, as in a fundamental, radical realization of wrongness. She felt it was fitting. 

She ended up as a meek, unassuming middle-age librarian in the city of Erie, Pennsylvania. She set the triangulating mask on a shelf in the closet of the guest room, not remembering what it was. She had plenty of money and could have gone anywhere, but she just didn't have the energy. Adora planned on living out the rest of her life as a human, and dying as one of them.

And then the Doctor, her husband, had showed up four months into her second lifetime on Earth and was going to take it all away.


	3. Chapter 3

3—A Second Opinion

The Doctor stumbled back to his feet and waited for his wife to get out of the car, then recalled she was still locked in the vehicle. He released the locks and opened the door, saying, “Hedron, what an utter surprise. I never would have guessed . . .”

“It's Adora now, actually, and we don't have much time. I'm sure the Daleks are on their way even now to burn this planet out of Time and memory, and I'm not going to be a functioning Gallifreyan when they get here. Do what you want in your last years; I intend to forget what's coming.”

The Doctor replied sadly, “The Daleks won't be coming, as it happens; I stopped them, but it cost me the whole planet and every living thing on it. Maybe some day I'll tell you, but for now you have all the time you want. Hedron, we—”

The woman sitting in the car glared at him. “I respected you enough to honor your choice of name, _Doctor_. I didn't think I'd have to ask for the same consideration from you.” 

“Very well, _Adora_. I have some questions. Which regeneration are you in, first of all?”

Adora told him, “Fifth life, but third regeneration. I heard you've been burning through your lives like Cinder grass in summer . . .”

“You're only in your third regeneration? When did they come to ask for my help?”

“In my first regeneration, near the end. I tried to find you, but Torchwood found me first, and then . . . I had to hide. I knew they knew I had a TARDIS and I didn't dare to have them keep it or me, so I hid. I'm not proud of it . . .”

The Doctor looked at her with compassion. “You did well. Torchwood would have had a field day with a working TARDIS and a Time Lady all at once. And I wouldn't have noticed you if my TARDIS hadn't been so insistent that I check her readouts . . .”

He looked at her again, appraisingly. “You can get out now, of course; I was just being cautious. The last time I found someone who had used a Chameleon Arch it was very unpleasant.”

Adora stood to her feet, but didn't move away from the car. “Who else made it?”

“Koschei. He's dead now.”

“Of course,” Adora replied drily. “It would have to be him. All your skeletons pop up from out of the Void, all for your entertainment.”

The Doctor held out a hand to her, and gently pulled her away from the car and out of the shadow of a tree. “You're hardly 'entertainment'—you're a living being, deserving of . . . my goodness, you look horrible! Oh, Hed—Adora, what have you done to yourself?”

Adora shrugged. “I was just marking time, waiting for death. Maybe my change couldn't hide the fact. I had nothing to live for; _have_ nothing, if you want to know the truth.”

“We need to get you med scanned as soon as possible . . . I take it your TARDIS has a Medical Center?”

Adora tossed her head arrogantly. “Of course it does—what do you take me for? Unlike you, my TARDIS isn't a decrepit Type-40 being held together with worn-out time-chaining circuits and hope. I'll have you know my TARDIS is an up-to-date Type-90 and capable of—”

The Doctor took Adora firmly by the arm. “We can compare our vehicles later. Right now we need to get you scanned and taken care of.”

“No.”

The Doctor didn't let go. “Where is your TARDIS? You need proper medical attention, and soon. I'm surprised you're functioning at all. Once you're better we can—” 

Adora stood up straighter. “I said no. I won't help you find it. I told you, I have nothing to live for. Let me go, so I can die in peace.”

“Absolutely not. You're not in your right mind at the moment, and I'm not about to let the only other Time Lord in the Universe shrivel up and die when I can prevent it. You're _ill_ , Adora. No one can make decisions like this when they're on the point of collapse. Once you're well, we can decide what we want to do.”

“We?”

The Doctor looked at her full in the eyes. “We are the last of our kind. We're the only ones left who can travel the stars and times like other races take a sailboat out to sea for an afternoon. Even more than that, you're my wife, for Rassilon's sake.”

Adora gave a mirthless laugh. “Let's be honest for once—what kind of marriage did we have? We didn't do anything but argue because of my pride and self-absorption. I took the love you offered and threw it back in your face. We didn't ever dance or go to the theater—sweet Rassilon, we didn't even _hold_ hands because of me. I turned your own children against you because I knew you would ruin my chance to get what I wanted. What kind of wife is that?”

“Is that why you won't accept my help—because it's me?”

Adora wouldn't meet his eyes. “I'm ashamed,” she whispered. “I don't deserve your help.”

The Doctor was implacable. “I don't care if you don't deserve it. I am going to help you, because that's what I do. I will help you and then let you decide what kind of life you want to live, _live_ , Adora, not suffer through. But all that can wait. Where is your TARDIS?”

Adora got back in the car. At first, the Doctor thought she would drive away, but then he saw she was only getting one of her bags out of the vehicle. She got out with the bag and a bottle of water. “I have to take my medication . . .”

The Doctor yanked the bag out of her hands and started rummaging through it. “What kind of medication are we talking about?” 

Adora didn't say anything as the Doctor read off prescription labels and flung each bottle to the ground. “Lipitigril, Losartan, Lithium, Buspar, Abilify . . . poison, the whole lot. No wonder you look so awful . . .”

Adora knelt to pick up the bottles, but the Doctor pulled her back up. “ _Poison_ , Adora, every single one. I absolutely refuse to let you take them any more unless you go into withdrawal. From this moment forward consider me to be your physician. I will look after you and get you healthy enough to make rational decisions. Now, when did you last sleep?”

“Don't remember.”

“What about food? I know you didn't eat last night . . .”

“I have no idea,” Adora whispered.

The Doctor's eyes narrowed. He had strongly suspected Adora was suffering from anorexia while they were married, but hadn't really pushed the issue. Belatedly he realized he should have stepped in, should have been more attentive, but it didn't matter at the moment. Now the priority was to get Adora help as soon as possible. He could do a temporary fix for her body but he was no psychiatrist, and she would definitely need some therapy to get to a better state of mind. 

“Where is your TARDIS, Adora?” he asked softly.

She wouldn't look at him.

The Doctor gave up; he didn't have time to search for it. Adora needed swift medical intervention if she was going to survive. “Drive us back,” he told her.

“Drive where?”

“Take me back to my TARDIS, Adora. We're getting nowhere here.”

She looked at him, then slowly got in the car. The Doctor scooped up the medications he had dropped on the ground. The doctors where they were going might need them, and if Adora went through withdrawal he might need them. He got in.

Adora started up the car, looking defeated. “If we go back . . . if I let you do this . . . will you go away?”

“Not until you're well, Adora. Once that happens, we can talk about the next step.”


	4. Chapter 4

4—Push and Pull

The Doctor was surprised at how easy it had been to get Adora in his TARDIS now that she had been changed back into a Time Lady. She glanced around the Console Room, then said rudely, “You let your TARDIS do its own decorating, don't you? You never did have proper control over this vehicle . . .”

The center pillar's glow of green darkened noticeably and the Doctor smiled. “Insult her at your peril, Adora. She's not some mere conveyance to get from point A to point B—she's her own person. If you're mean to her you might find your bed instantly moved to the swimming pool late one night.”

Adora sniffed loudly, but did stroke the edge of the console nearest her as she passed. She followed the Doctor listlessly to the Medical Center and lay down flat on the scanning table without prompting. “Will it take long?” 

The Doctor was setting the machine to Gallifreyan norms. “Probably about five minutes. Not enough time for a nap, though you can meditate if you think you can't lie still long enough.”

“I haven't meditated since I left Gallifrey,” Adora confessed. “Not sure I'd remember how.”

The Doctor patted her hand. “Meditation is like concentration. You get better and better the more you do, but you can't ever quite lose it all. Ready?”

Adora bit her lip, then nodded.

The Doctor started the scan then began searching through the Med Center supplies, looking for his emergency pack. The kit had some ultra-nutrient powdered shake mixes; high-calorie, vitamin and mineral-rich and easy to digest. He had used them before, after being a prisoner of war on some-planet-or-other and found they worked well. The shakes would provide Adora nourishment without making her stomach work harder than it needed to; the last thing she needed was nausea. He found twelve packs then asked, “What flavors do you like? I have something to give you in place of solid food but I don't want it to taste nasty for you. I have some Gallifreyan flavors too, so what will you take?”

Adora didn't answer. The Doctor went over to the table to see if she was all right. Adora's eyes were squeezed shut, but tears still welled up. Her lips were pressed tightly together, and she was trembling slightly. The Doctor checked to make sure the scan was done, then placed a hand on top of Adora's head and stroked her hair until she stopped shaking. She opened her eyes, then wiped them with the back of one hand. “I never cared what I ate on Gallifrey, not even as a little girl. It doesn't matter what they taste like.”

“What about on Earth, Adora? Were there any foods you liked then?”

She answered slowly, “Oranges were nice . . . and eggs, coffee . . . and licorice.”

The Doctor smiled at her. “I can manage one of those, I think. I'll go get this mixed up . . . do you want it cold or warm?

“Cold, please.”

Once the Doctor was gone Adora sat up and looked around. It looked very much like the med center of her own TARDIS. There was the scanning table she was on, and another more comfortable bed to her left, with controls above it. To her far right were cabinets and drawers of various medical instruments, and beyond that was a small isolation chamber. Behind her was a closed door. She got up and walked to the door and opened it, then smiled when she found a toilet, sink and bath. She hadn't felt the need for a bathroom before now, but now that she had one . . .

When she came out she saw the Doctor looking around in some alarm, a tumbler in his hand. “Adora? Where did you . . . oh, there you are. I didn't think you would have gone far. Ready for a meal?”

Adora went back to the scanning table and sat down, then took the proffered cup. She went to take a sip but stopped when she saw the Doctor looking at her expectantly, eagerly. It bothered her intensely. Did he expect her to just take his orders and try to please him in every way like an Earth pet might? She set the cup down on the table. “I'm not hungry any more,” she said stiffly.

The Doctor went from eager to confused in an instant. Why was Adora refusing now? She had been listening, she was giving in . . .

Immediately he stopped, remembering who he was dealing with. His wife had a lot of pride and put high value on dignity. It had to be very hard for her to accept help, especially his help. Giving in just wasn't her. He gathered up all the compassion he had and put it in his voice as he said softly, “I'll just go set the coordinates for Yamexibon, then. Back in a few.”

Once Adora was sure he was gone, she sipped, then drained the cup and put it back on the table. It had actually tasted good to her and she was glad she had told him she liked oranges, though she would never admit it. She wasn't going to lose any more of herself than she had to, she decided. Things were hard enough being here, with _him_. How he must enjoy having their roles reversed, she thought, him having all the power and getting to lord over her! After all, it's what she would do, would feel . . .

When the Doctor came back into the room he didn't even look at the cup. He told her gently, “We'll be at Yamexibon soon. They're used to all sorts of fashions and lifeforms so you can wear whatever you want. The Wardrobe Room is left out of here, then down the hall, third door on the right. And I told the TARDIS to put a bedroom and bath next door so you can shower and rest if we have enough time. And Adora, I want you to feel . . . I don't want to hurt you. Please let me know what you need, so I won't.”

She looked at him, then gave him a curt nod and left the room.

The Doctor sighed, then started analyzing the scan results. He was not surprised to learn that Adora was severely malnourished and had had some damage done to her hearts, probably from the drugs she had been taking. She should weigh between 135 and 145 pounds to be healthy, and she weighed only 93. She was deficient in several minerals that weren't even found on Earth; he'd have to give her an injectable supplement for now. She had muscle wasting due to not eating, but she was still able to walk on her own, so it could be worse. He'd make sure to put more protein in the next drink, that was if she had actually drank the first one. The cup was empty and he looked in the bath, toilet and sink to make sure she hadn't just dumped it. There was no residue and he felt a little better. At last he was getting somewhere.

Meanwhile, Adora had found the Wardrobe Room and was absolutely astounded. There was enough clothing to outfit every Time Lord in the Citadel more than three times, for all the seasons you could imagine. What a collection! She didn't even know where to start. At last she decided on a pair of thin black leggings and a turquoise t-shirt. The shirt was huge on her, but she wouldn't get too hot. She put on a pair of glittering silver sandals, and thought about jewelry. In the end she decided against it; she wasn't trying to impress anyone here. All she wanted was to get in and out with the least amount of fuss possible.

The room the Doctor had picked out was beautiful. It was done in Earth ocean colors, from the faintest of greens to the deepest of blues and every shade in between. There were also highlights of white like foam, and the lighting was similar to Earth on a bright sunny day. The bed was roomy, and the furniture was sturdy wood the color of sand. The room even smelled of salt and sunshine. She would have to thank the Doctor, but then realized he probably wasn't the architect of this lovely place. Swallowing her pride, she went over to a wall, put her hand on it and said aloud, “Thank you for this. I'm sorry for my manners earlier. Please . . . please forgive me.”

She could hear the hum of the TARDIS change slightly in pitch, and could almost feel the ship smiling, if such a thing were possible. She realized that though her TARDIS was little more than an elaborate chariot, this one had personality, life . . . sentience. She wondered how much of that was due to the Doctor and how much of it could be found in any TARDIS that was pampered as much as this one. She didn't know, and now was not the time. She showered quickly, washing thoroughly with soap that could have been straight from the Gallifreyan supply center. What other marvels were here in this place? It was like something out of an Earthen fairy tale.

At last she got out and dressed in her new clothes. She braided her hair in an elaborate twist straight from her childhood, then came out and went back to the Console Room. The Doctor was there, a data chip in hand, probably her scan results. She felt uncomfortable but reminded herself that this was all temporary. She'd pass muster and then go back to Earth and be free of this embarrassing reminder of all her foibles and flaws. She was going to step out meekly but forced herself to stand tall. She was a Time Lady, and had pride enough to do at least that much. Regally she marched to the door and waited as he opened it for her.


	5. Chapter 5

5—Meltdown

When Adora stepped out of the TARDIS her first feeling was one of cold. There was a brisk wind blowing and though the twin suns were shining brightly, she shivered as they walked. “I thought Yamexibon would be warm,” she almost whined, then shut her mouth tightly. _He must be loving this_ , she thought.

The Doctor looked at her with surprise. “You're cold?” he asked anxiously. “You should be able to sufficiently adjust your metabolism to—but, of course you can't; your metabolism is all but shut down. We can go back for a coat or—”

Adora gritted her teeth. “Forget it. The sooner we get there the sooner we can leave.”

The Doctor looked like he was going to say something else but she could see him think better of it. He led the way through the mainly deserted streets to the hospital, a beautiful construction of many interlocking spheres surrounding a central column. Her Earthly husband would have loved to have seen it, but she pushed him out of her mind. She had to call on all her reserves of strength to get through this ordeal. She might be under the Doctor's thumb for now, but it would only be for a short time.

They entered the building and went to the receptionist, a red, pumpkin-like being with thick tendril vines instead of arms. It looked at the two of them, then turned pink and stammered, “You . . . you need the Emergency Bubble; it's the left hallway to the elevators, up one level and to your right; just follow the signs. I'll let them know you're coming . . .”

Adora said nothing. Something about the creature's manner upset her. Why was it so sure she needed emergency care? As she went down the halls her unease deepened. Every creature they passed stared at her, every one. Some gasped, some turned different colors, some twitched nervously, but all of them stared. One caterpillar being actually turned and darted away. _What's wrong with everyone_ , she wondered. 

They approached another receptionist, who also stared. Its tail curled and uncurled in a frenzied manner as it called out to someone, “It's arrived. Someone get a doctor down here _right now!_ And you, sir-or-madam, are you a relative?”

The Doctor said firmly, “I am this woman's physician and husband. We are Time Lords from Gallifrey. I have a data chip with a recent scan on it . . .”

The receptionist told them, “You can go in for now but once we start treatment you may be asked to leave. Follow the auto-nurse to the exam room; a sentient will be with you very shortly.”

“Thank you,” the Doctor told it. He took Adora's hand and guided her through the halls. Again, Adora had to deal with the stares and shocked, horrified faces. She pulled away from the Doctor's grasp. “I can walk perfectly well on my own!” she hissed.

The Doctor looked at her with a gentle smile on his face, which angered her further. He was _enjoying_ this, she was sure of it. What better way to humiliate her than to parade her in front of a bunch of aliens who looked at her like she had four heads, all of them spurting blood and black bile. What she wouldn't have given to have lived a quiet life on Earth as a human and just died there. But no, the high-and-mighty Doctor wasn't about to let her be at peace. She seethed, but made sure to do it quietly.

Once they were in the exam room, the auto-nurse handed Adora a paper gown and told her, “Please re-dress in this so the doctors can better examine you. A sentient will be here shortly.”

She looked from the auto-nurse to the Doctor and back to the auto-nurse. They expected her to change in _here?_ There was a glass window; anyone could see! Were they crazy?

She was about to flat-out refuse when a matronly humanoid with bulging green eyes and four arms came bustling into the room, replacing the auto-nurse. “All right, dearie, we've got to get you properly dressed for the doctors. What's your name, dearie?” she asked as she slipped Adora's t-shirt over her head and started pulling.

“I can do it myself!” Adora snapped.  
The nurse stopped pulling but stood there, her body language saying, _well, get at it!_

The Doctor stepped in. “Her name is Adora, and she's a Time Lady from Gallifrey. I am her husband and physician. I have a data chip with a scan on it from earlier today.”

Adora slowly got out of her shirt and leggings but kept her panties while the nurse asked, “And how long has she been like this, sir?”  
“She's been in this condition for several months at least. I just found her yesterday.”

The nurse said crisply, “Not that we don't trust you, sir, but we'll need to do our own scans . . . we have up-to-date, powerful scanners, ones you won't find everywhere. Now dearie, it's all going to have to go, panties too. We don't want anything interfering with the scans, you know; they're _very_ sensitive . . .”

Utterly humiliated, Adora lowered her underwear and stepped out of them. With trembling hands she got into the paper gown and sat on the scanning table. She wanted to scream, to rage, but most of all to _leave_. She lay back and recited pi as far as she could remember, eyes tightly shut, while the oblivious Doctor and matronly nurse discussed her as if she was a child. He was telling the woman, “I'll need full access to any findings and test results, and I'll want daily reports on how she's doing, hourly perhaps . . .”

The nurse nodded. “Of course, sir. As a physician you'll be granted full disclosure; I'm sure it can be arranged . . . Now you're going to have to be very still for a bit, dearie, so just take deep breaths and concentrate on not moving,” she chattered. “It won't take long, and it won't hurt.”

Adora had run out of pi numbers; she started reminding herself of the titles of the books she had most recently read in reverse alphabetical order. She wasn't halfway through before the nurse told her, “All set, dearie. You did very well. Now, let's look at the results . . . well, you are in a state. Not even menstruating at this point, though that'll come back once you've got more weight on you . . .”

The Doctor's voice climbed up an octave as he gasped, “Menstruating? Female Gallifreyans can't menstruate; there was—”

“She's too thin now, but once she's gained some weight it won't be an issue,” the nurse insisted.

Adora had had enough. “Get out,” she spat.

“Now, dearie—”

Adora bellowed as loud as she possibly could. “Get _out!_ All of you! Just _leave!_ ”

The Doctor came to her side and said in a measured tone, “I think we need a minute alone. Would it be possible . . .”

“We really can't do that sir, she shouldn't be left alone until she's examined, and even then—”

“I'll be with her and I'm a doctor myself,” the Doctor said firmly. “She just needs a minute or two, don't you, Adora?”

Adora did not answer. It was all she could do to hold back tears but she would not, _would not_ give him the satisfaction.

“I'll be right outside,” the nurse told them. “A psychiatrist on staff will be here any minute, and then he can go over the scans . . .”

The Doctor nodded absently as he sat next to Adora on the table. “We'll be fine on our own for now. Thank you.”

The nurse left, and Adora released a huge breath. “I want to leave; I want to go back to Earth. Take my TARDIS, take whatever you want, but take me _back_.”

“No, Adora,” the Doctor said quietly. “You need help.”

“I _don't_ need to be treated like I'm not even here! I _don't_ need people discussing my intimate details! I _don't_ need people staring at me like I'm a mauled corico-beast! I need to leave! They _hate_ me! All of them _hate_ me! I won't stay!”

“They don't mean any harm, Adora, and they certainly don't hate you. Anorexia is rare here, though they can treat it. They're just concerned, like I am.”

“No one's concerned, least of all you. You just want to get back at me, to pay me for how I treated you. If you _cared_ , you would have asked if you could have access to my private medical information instead of blurting it out for all to hear. If you _cared_ you would have made sure I could change in private, rather than make me expose myself in front of the whole hospital. If you _cared_ you would at least give me a sheet to cover up with; I'm so cold . . .”

The Doctor turned scarlet. “I'm sorry, Adora . . . I have been going about this in the wrong way. I'm not trying to embarrass or hurt you. I've been insensitive to your needs and I will stop. I apologize.”

He stood up and started opening cabinets until he found a blanket. He draped it over her shoulders, then murmured, “I will do my best to get you the help you need while keeping your dignity intact. I am truly sorry, Adora.”

“Take me back to Earth.”

The Doctor took her hand and started stroking it. “When you're well.”

Just then a blue-skinned male humanoid came in. “My name is Doctor Brikk, and I'm going to be taking care of you, Adora, is it? The first thing you need is a good, long sleep; even Time Lords and Ladies have to rest sometime.” 

The humanoid approached her with a hypospray cartridge in hand. Before he could administer the drug, everything went hazy. She felt herself yelling, running, pushing people out of her path. She kept going until she found what she thought was a safe place to hide, a metal box with a sliding door in front. It was small, but she could get in by crawling. She thought she was safe, but screamed as she felt the box she was in begin to drop. She tried to get out, but the place where she had gotten in was already far above her and there wasn't enough space. She kept screaming as the box lowered, then lurched as it stopped at another clear area. She frantically raised the door and crawled out, sobbing.   
She stayed there crying and rocking until she felt someone putting their arms around her, then wrapping her in a blanket. She heard the Doctor's voice then, whispering to her in Gallifreyan, telling her she would be all right, that no one would harm her. He then said something to the others crowded around them as he raised Adora in his arms and carried her somewhere. She just closed her eyes and tried to stop weeping.

She opened her eyes when she felt her body being lowered onto something soft. She was in a different room, somewhere with muted pinks and lavenders on the walls and gentle music playing from nearby. The Doctor's face was inches from her own, great concern showing in his deep brown eyes. She managed to stop crying and saw that they were alone in the room, though she thought she could see people just outside the door.

Gently the Doctor asked her, “What are you afraid of, Adora? Do you think we'll hurt you while you sleep?”

Adora shook her head. “No, not that. Nothing like that.”

“Then what? I need to know, Adora. I can't help you if you don't tell me what's going on. Please tell me. _Please_ , Adora.”

Adora shivered, shaking her head. “You'll laugh.”

The Doctor looked horrified. “I would never laugh at something that upsets you so.”

“I'm . . . I'm scared of the monsters,” she confessed.

“What monsters?” the Doctor asked, confused.

“Every time I close my eyes I can see them, hear them, and they won't go away. They're just out of reach, and I . . . I can't sleep.”

The Doctor stroked her head and told her seriously, “That's because you _haven't_ slept, Adora. It's a vicious cycle and it's just going to get worse and worse until you die. You should have told me, you know . . .”

Adora started crying again. “I can't do it! I'm so scared . . .”

“What if I stayed? Would you sleep if I was there with you?”

“I don't know,” Adora sniffed.

The Doctor bent down and held Adora close. “I'll stay right there the whole time. I won't go anywhere. We'll find a quiet place where you can rest for as long as you need. You stay here for a bit while I arrange things.”

Adora watched the Doctor have a quiet conversation with the people at the door. He came back, scooped her up again and followed a nurse to a private room, dark and warm. He set her down and tucked her in under a sheet, then sat next to her on the double bed. “It's all right, Adora. This is a safe place, a seldaseltra, all for you.”

Adora sighed, relieved. “Seldaseltra” meant a place where one could find emotional, mental, and physical balance and safety. It was not used lightly; for a place to be such it usually required guards at the door and calming odors and quiet, dark surroundings. Though she trusted what the Doctor was saying, she still couldn't relax. “I just can't,” she whimpered.

The Doctor didn't scold; he took her in his arms and started whispering more Gallifreyan to her, telling her how strong she was, how brave. After a few minutes, she finally sank into slumber.


	6. Chapter 6

6—The Unexpected

The Doctor fell asleep about ten minutes after Adora did but woke much sooner, of course. When he opened his eyes he checked his internal time sense and found he had slept about two hours, which would last him a week. He knew Adora might sleep as much as twelve hours before she woke, which was fine with him; the more rest she got the better. 

Disentangling himself took a minute or two, but he managed to do it without waking Adora. Quickly he grabbed a chair so he could sit by her bedside. He turned on a dim light, ready to turn it off the second she stirred, but she didn't move. _Good,_ he thought. He took a data reader and a copy of Adora's hospital scan results, then sat down and started to go over them in detail.

Some of the information was stuff he had discovered from his own scan: malnutrition, sleep deprivation, hearts damage. He also knew about the mineral deficiency and possible withdrawal symptoms she might experience. Her metabolism was a mess, her body barely functioned—all things he knew.

The fact that she had stopped menstruating was a total surprise.

Gallifreyan women were sterile, had been for millennium. Some time well in Gallifrey's past a virus had attacked the reproductive system and gene sequence of all the females on the planet, and had caused the mutation to be passed on through the X chromosome of the women's DNA. Gene-splicing hadn't worked, a retrovirus hadn't worked . . . the only answer had been cloning, thus the Looms were created. Adora shouldn't have been able to menstruate in the first place, let alone have the cycle interrupted. He hadn't realized that the process stopped in cases of anorexia, but it made sense; if the body was just hanging on, the reproductive system would shut down along with  
all other non-essentials. This meant that once well, Adora might be able to bear a child.

The Doctor thought long and hard about this new development. One question he had was how had it happened? What had been done to Adora's body that reversed cellular and genetic codes that had locked Gallifreyan doctors and geneticists out for many thousands of years? Was it the medications, the long time she had spent in a human body, maybe the anorexia itself, what? 

His next question was, should he tell her? Adora was barely clinging to life as it was; would it be fair to complicate her recovery by telling her now? At the same time, was it fair to withhold medical information she had the right to know? Which would cause the most harm, the least? And how to broach the subject? “By the way, you might be able to become pregnant and have a child," didn't sound like the type of comment you made at the breakfast table, or anywhere, for that matter. It would have to be done delicately, and maybe not by him. Adora already thought he was punishing her with his demands and decisions. It might not be wise for him to open up this  
Pandora's Box. She would have to know eventually, maybe even soon, but for now he decided to wait. Hopefully she would be able to bond with one of the staff here and save him the awkwardness. 

_Adora might be able to bear children,_ he thought to himself. _Our children._

The Doctor's mind whirled with a hundred different fantasies. He saw himself holding a Gallifreyan toddler, singing it songs in his native tongue. He saw himself on Histameglu flying a kite with a little girl while Adora and a little boy picked flowers and examined butterflies that  
landed on their sleeves. He saw himself in a classroom with a group of teenagers studying advanced temporal physics. He saw himself, old and feeble, being helped down a path by a youngster as they surveyed baby TARDIS-es being planted in a nursery. He saw and saw and saw . . .

A hand on his shoulder broke him out of his dreams. He looked up to find the doctor who would be treating Adora, Doctor Brikk, standing next to his chair. “Is she still asleep?” Doctor Brikk whispered.

“So far. And this is going to have to be the last conversation we have without Adora being awake, lucid, and involved. She has control issues which manifest as anorexia. For her to get better she needs to feel her life is in _her_ hands, not someone else's, and especially not mine. Once those so-called 'medications' are out of her system—” 

“That's one thing I wanted to ask about. Those drugs . . . do you think it was part of a suicide attempt?”

The Doctor thought long and hard for a minute, then shrugged. “I have no idea, actually. She was in human form when they were prescribed but that doesn't mean she didn't know what they were doing to her. It might have been a passive way to die. She's already told me she has nothing to live for, so there is a possibility the damage was deliberate. I wish I could give you a definitive yes or no . . .”

“There's very few 'definitives' in psychiatry, Doctor. I just wondered how high a suicide safeguard level we would have to use. We can go full-out and have the furniture unmovable, no fixtures in the bathroom, no sheets . . .”

The Doctor shook his head. “Too much external control. We'll lose her if we go that route. She has to be involved as much as we can let her. And though I'm a doctor, I'm likely to be a big trigger for her, so I'd like to keep as much out of her treatment as I can. I want her to feel that I'm a support, but not a driving force behind her recovery.”

Doctor Brikk sighed. “We will need your help at first to stabilize her physically. You said some of the minerals and vitamins she needed weren't accessible on Earth . . .”

“You probably have them here, but I'll check to make sure. One thing I'm sure of is that they can be found in places other than Gallifrey. Usually a Time Lord would be exposed to them either on the home world or on the planets they visited.”

Doctor Brikk glanced at the scan results, then asked, “Are you sure the anorexia is just a control issue? Could there be a body-image disorder as well?”

The Doctor sighed. “It's unlikely. Adora was always proud of how healthy she looked. Also, if it were just body-image it would have disappeared after a regeneration and a new body; this has been a problem for her all the time I've known her. It just was never this bad before. Again, it might be a way to slowly die, but that's not _all_ it is.”

“One thing we will have to control for at least the short-term is her eating,” Doctor Brikk said firmly. “We need to get her healthy enough to be out of danger. I want her up to 105 pounds before we really address the damage to her psyche. We can give her as much choice of her wardrobe, rooms, pleasure activities, and other non-essentials as she wants but she has to start gaining, and soon. I don't want tube-feeding or intravenous intrusions if we don't need them.”

“I agree,” The Doctor said. “But as I said, I'm going to step back once she's awake.”

Doctor Brikk nodded. “I understand. Just let us know when she wakes and I'll discuss with her whether she wants to be in the Psych Bubble or somewhere else.”

“I'll let you know,” the Doctor promised.

Doctor Brikk left the room. As the door was closing Adora stirred a bit, moaning. TheDoctor sighed, sat down on the bed and gently stroked Adora's hair until she calmed down. _You will get better, he thought. Better enough to want children, even. You will get better . . ._


	7. Chapter 7

7—The Man in the Mirror

When Adora woke after ten hours, the Doctor said, “Well then, I'll be on my way.”

Adora was astonished. “You're leaving me here?”

“Oh, I won't leave the city. I'm just going to . . . well . . . give you some space.”

Adora studied his face carefully. “What do you mean, _space_?”

The Doctor shrugged. “I think you'll heal quicker if I'm not always on the scene. Not that you can't have me come visit if you want; I'd always be available . . .”

“Aren't you going to be my doctor?” _Poking your nose into everything?_ she thought.

“Actually, no, not unless I'm needed to clarify your needs as a Gallifreyan.”

Suddenly Adora felt nervous. She had resigned herself to the fact that the Doctor would be micro-managing her case so he could keep her under his thumb, but this . . . this was unexpected. “Where will you go?” she asked suspiciously, but with a bit of unease.

“Like I said, I won't leave the city. I'll probably see what parts I can find for my TARDIS, maybe do a complete overhaul, but I won't leave without you. That's a promise, Adora. I can visit; I'll set up something so you can get in touch with me.” He patted her hand, then withdrew quietly.

After a few minutes, Doctor Brikk entered the room and said, “Adora, I'd like you to come with me so you can meet your treatment team and make some decisions on how you want your stay here to go. Unless you want to shower?”

Adora thought, then said, “I'd rather hear what you're going to do with me first.”

“A lot of that is going to depend on you, what you think will help most. There's a few non-negotiables, but we want you to have control over your care. You know you best, after all.”

They walked down to a conference room with a view of the city and the other treatment spheres of the hospital. She was surprised by the size of her treatment team; there was Doctor Brikk, her psychiatrist; another doctor for her physical ailments, two nurses, a social worker, a massage therapist, an activity aide, a nutritionist and a therapist. She was a little intimidated, but tried not to show it too much. After introductions were made, Doctor Brikk told her, “Now, we need you to decide what part of the hospital you want to live in while you're here. Some parts will be restricted, of course . . .”

Adora was taken aback. “I can choose?”

The therapist, a silicon-based creature that looked like a column of crystal, answered through an electronic translator. “We want you somewhere you'll be comfortable and able to focus on getting well. The obvious choice is the Psych Bubble . . .”

“No,” Adora said firmly. “I'm not crazy.”

“Just a regular private room in one of the other med Bubbles?” the octopus social worker suggested.

Adora shook her head. She wanted to be somewhere with people like her, people that didn't matter, ones who wouldn't want to chatter at her or stare . . . “I want to go to the Hospice Bubble. I want to go to a place where everyone knows it's over, just like it is for me.”

Several of the team members looked at her with concern, but Doctor Brikk told her, “That's fine, Adora. We'll set up a room for you there. Now we have to talk to you about some things you  _won't_ be able to choose. You need to take in a certain, set amount of nutrition several times a day. For now this will be in liquid form, but after a bit we can start you on some solids. You and the nutritionist can talk about flavors you would prefer, but you must take in the sustenance as directed. You will also be weighed on a daily basis, but at first we don't want you knowing what that weight is. We don't want you focused on a number; we want you focused on how your body feels. One other thing—before you go to your room we have to perform a special test, one that can't be done by a scan or equipment. We'll do that right after this meeting, actually. It won't take long, but it's  _very_ important. You'll need to have a staff there when the test is administered, but you don't need to talk to them or interact with them if you don't want to. Do you understand?”

Adora nodded, but wondered about the “special” test. What could they possibly check for without scanners or equipment? Was it a special scale, a blood test, what?

“Who would you like to accompany you to the test, Adora?” Doctor Brikk asked.

“I think . . . I think one of the nurses.”

The female humanoid nurse said, “I'll be happy to assist you, Adora. First, though, there are some preparations.”

Adora was so very curious. “What preparations?”

“This test can't be properly done in a gown or regular clothes. You can be nude or wear well-fitting underclothes, your choice. You also have to put your hair up.”

“Can . . . can I wear panties?”

The nurse nodded. “We'll find you some. Let's get you to the testing room . . . it's in the Psych Bubble, but we don't have to stay there long.”

Adora followed the nurse to the Psych Bubble, then came to a black door near the middle of the Bubble. She and the nurse entered, and the nurse handed her some underwear. Once she was in the panties and her hair was braided up and piled on her head the nurse told Adora, “I want you to open the door to your right, and then step forward. Take as much time as you need.”

Adora squared her shoulders and stepped into the next room.

What she saw there was a complete surprise. The room was small, but well-lit so she could see clearly. In front of her was a set of three full-length mirrors set in angles so Adora could see herself from both sides, the front, and the back. She shivered, then began to shake as she examined herself. Her arms were sticks, her ribs could easily be seen . . . in fact, her whole body was nothing more than a skeleton hiding in skin and thin, weak muscles. Her cheeks were hollow, her eyes sunken; she was little more than a shell of who she had been. She only lasted a moment or two before she crumpled into a heap in front of the mirrors, sobbing. Had she really come to this? Is that all that was left of her? She'd always been strong, prided herself on the fact. Now she was barely more than a corpse. No wonder they had all stared . . .

The nurse came and helped Adora to her feet, saying, “Do you understand why you're here now, Adora?”

Adora took one more glance in the mirrors, then said in a small voice, “I think . . . maybe I should stay in the Psych Bubble after all.”

The nurse nodded and led Adora from the room.

 


	8. Chapter 8

8—The Waiting Game

The Doctor sighed and put down the tiny mylogen torch he had been using, taking off the protective gloves and setting them aside. Once he put the tool away he stood and stretched, then headed to the kitchen for a meal. He opened a container of stew he had gotten from a trader the day before and sat down while it heated in the hyper-wave. Once it was ready he grabbed a fork, reached over to the fruit bowl to snag a banana, then sat again to eat. As he ate he couldn't help but think of Adora. Had they been able to reverse any of the damage she had done to herself? Was she cooperating with the medical team, or was she resisting? He wanted to know, almost needed to know, but he stopped himself. It had only been two days, she was in good hands and he had to wait until she reached out, had to wait until he was given permission to involve himself. He had said he would give her space and he meant to keep that promise not only for her, but for himself. Even if he was at her side constantly she still needed to take this journey on her own, had to make it be her choice and not something forced upon her.

_She'll ask for me, he told himself. Sooner or later, she'll want me to come. She'll be stubborn and prideful at first, but she'll call. She'll call_ . . .  
 _Won't she?_

*****  
Adora sighed, putting aside the book she was reading. It was afternoon on Yamexibon and she was taking one of her allotted “quiet times” to be by herself. Usually there were classes to attend, projects to work on, treatments given . . . but now was quiet time, time to just get away and be by herself. She knew she got more autonomy than anyone else. She got to choose which groups she would attend, which staff she wanted with her, how she spent time when the others were sleeping. Still, there was a lot of structure. She wished she had more “down time”, but knew she would be brooding if she wasn't busy, usually about the Doctor. Always about the Doctor.

_He'll come, she told herself. He won't be able to stay away. That's not who he is, how he's made. He may try to control himself, try to hold out, but he won't last. He'll be by tomorrow, maybe the next day . . . but he'll come._

_Won't he?_

*****  
Someone had to break first.


	9. Chapter 9

9—Food For Thought

“I'm glad you asked me to visit,” the Doctor said as he sat down on a bench next to Adora. “I like this particular room; do you come here often?”

They were in a little tropical oasis that had been set up inside the Psych Bubble so the patients didn't feel so shut-in. There was the sound of running water and plants everywhere and even smells that might make you think you were actually outside. Both Adora and the Doctor were unable to believe they weren't in an enclosed space due to their heightened senses, but it was a good enough imitation for the moment.

“I don't, actually,” Adora told him, “I just wanted some privacy. The others are in exercise group right now so it's loud and chaotic, even in my room. They run laps, you see, and though I've been here a week I just can't get used to it.”

The Doctor nodded. “Do you ever get a chance to swim? You've always loved water . . .”

Adora shook her head. “Not yet; I can't do any vigorous exercise until I weigh a little more, though I'm sure they already told you.”

“Actually,” the Doctor responded, “they haven't told me and won't tell me; they'll just let me know periodically if you're still alive. I told you I would give you space and I meant it. This is your healing, Adora, not mine. But let's talk about something else.”

Adora jumped up and stared angrily at the Doctor. “You drag me off the planet where I've lived for years, dump me in this place, and _now_ decide not to get involved? Are you serious?”

“I don't want to make it any harder for you than—” 

“Why did you bring me here if you were just going to ditch me? You're supposed to be the Doctor—the hero who charges in and makes everything better. Why won't you make it better?”

“I can't do that Adora,” the Doctor said softly. “You have to make it better yourself. All your life you've been driven by other people to be the person they wanted you to be, and you took control in the only means you had available. Now it's time for you to decide for yourself how you want to live, what you want to do.”

“I _wanted_ to die on Earth as a human!” Adora raged. “ _You're_ the one who got in the way of that, and now you want to be a coward, change your tune. You brought me here to help, so _help me!_ Do what you do best—meddle in things you have no business getting involved in. You've gone this far, why stop now?”

The Doctor looked up at her, sorrow on his face. “I don't want to control you, Adora. You've had enough of that on Gallifrey. Always it was someone dictating to you who you were supposed to be, what you had to do to be noticed or respected, until they made you into their image. You were driven and driven until the only outlet you had was being master over what you put in your mouth. The last thing you need is for me to do the same. I'm here if you want to talk, to cry or rage, to just sit next to you so you're not alone, but I will not be in charge of your life or push you into a mold of who I think you should be. You have to decide on your own who you want to be and what you want to make of yourself. I don't even want to give you advice right now; even that might be too much. I care about you Adora and always have, but I'm not going to run your life for you. I'm here as a sounding board, but the rest is up to you.”

“Why are you doing this!?” Adora screeched. “You're supposed to be in charge!”

The Doctor got to his feet. “Actually, I'm not. The person who's supposed to be in charge right now is you. Others are helping you stay alive long enough for that to happen, but once that's been sorted your life will be put squarely in your hands.”

He put a hand on her head for a moment then walked out.

For the next two days Adora was in quite a temper. She refused to talk to anyone. She quit attending groups and activities. She ceased bathing, terminated her massage therapy sessions and of course, stopped eating. In fact, she made it a point to pour her nutrition drinks down the garbage receptacle right in front of everyone. No one commented or tried to stop her. She spent almost all her time in her room and would pace for a few minutes before she had to stop and rest, but she would get right back up and pace again.

_How dare he!_ she fumed. _Self righteous, interfering Skul-squid! It's a trick! He'll be right back here sticking his nose into everything when they tell him how I'm doing now. They'll have to tell him. He'll be back . . ._

On the evening of the second day, Adora was resting on her bed when Doctor Brikk stuck his head in. He looked at her for a moment then said, “I have a question for you, Adora: who are you hurting right now? You may be angry with someone, even with all of us, but who's really paying the price? Think about it.”

Adora lay down in bed and thought about it.

She had to admit that she was suffering. She missed her massage therapy. She missed the activities she took part in with the other patients. She was _hungry_ , by Rassilon! She was hungry and sad and miserable, and it was the Doctor's fault! He brought her here, he ditched her, he . . .

_But he's not the one who's hungry, is he?_ a little voice whispered. _He's not miserable and sad. He's not pleading with me to follow the program, to bathe, to eat. He's not even here. The only one stopping me from eating and bathing and having fun is . . . is . . . is me._

Adora thought about it all night.


	10. Chapter 10

10—Spoken and Unspoken

It was two months before the Doctor saw Adora again. He got his weekly call that she was still alive just as he had set up with Doctor Brikk and though it almost killed him, the Doctor left it at that. He wanted to know everything, _anything_ on how Adora was doing but it wasn't his place, not now. Not yet. She had to be ready, had to be coming into herself, and his last visit had convinced him she was neither of those things. The Doctor hadn't meant to upset her, but he didn't think he could have handled it any other way than how he had. He wouldn't, couldn't force her to get well, and she had to understand that clearly. No one had that power except Adora herself.

During those weeks he set himself the task of giving his TRADIS a complete overhaul, not realizing how difficult the work would be. Some systems were on the brink of failure; others didn't work at all. The project was more difficult seeing as there weren't proper TARDIS parts to buy; they simply didn't exist any more. The Doctor patched and made do with the parts he could modify but mostly he had to improvise and build what was needed himself. It was hard, painstaking work but there was no one else and it had to get done; the poor TARDIS hadn't gotten an overhaul in well over a hundred years and she deserved better. He apologized to her in Gallifreyan for neglecting her but she hummed brightly in response to his words and repairs, seeming to forgive him.

Just as he finished up tuning the starboard long-range sensor array one morning, he heard the beep sequence of the cellular phone he had set up so the hospital could reach him. He scrambled to his feet and picked up the phone. “Hello?”

“This is the Psych Bubble at Nafujan Hospital; I'm trying to reach . . . the Doctor?”

“I'm the Doctor. Has something happened?”

The being on the other end told him, “There is no emergency; Adora's asked if you could come and visit. Would you be available today?”

The Doctor was pleased, no, jubilant. Adora had finally asked for him again. “I'd be glad to. Are there set visiting hours?”

“Not for Adora. We try to let her set her own visitation schedule so long as it isn't too disruptive for others or for her treatment.”

“I'll be there in an hour. Can I bring her something?”

“No animal or plant life-forms of any kind are allowed; some of the patients and staff might be allergic. She also cannot receive any gifts of food or beverages at this time; it might interfere with her treatment,” the being responded.

“Thank you. I'll be there shortly.”

The Doctor put down the phone, then thought at a furious rate. What gift could he bring Adora? Would she like jewelry or a book, maybe  
music, what? He hadn't given her many gifts when they were together; she just gave them back haughtily, saying he was being ridiculous and he eventually stopped. Would she be as unreceptive now? He decided that he didn't care how she reacted; it would make _him_ feel better. He hurried to the TARDIS library and spent some time looking for a book he thought Adora would enjoy. In the end he selected a slim volume of poetry from seventy-seventh century Venusian poet Fijfanarm. He then grabbed his coat, straightened his tie and set off.

When he arrived at the Psych Bubble the auto-nurse at the entrance stopped him. It said, “Welcome to the Psych Bubble. Are you here to visit a specific patient?”

“I'm the Doctor, and I'm here to see Adora.”

“Please empty your pockets of any weapons or dangerous items you may carry. This includes any sharps, chemicals, flammables, et cetera . . .”

The Doctor thought for a moment then sighed and took off his coat, not wanting to search through his pockets for anything they might consider inappropriate; that could take days. He handed it to the auto-nurse after taking out his sonic screwdriver and putting it in his suit pocket. 

The auto-nurse asked, “What is that device?” It managed to sound suspicious.

“It's a sonic screwdriver; perfectly harmless.”

“Does it have the capacity to interfere with the door locks, the medication locks, or myself?”

The Doctor hesitated. “Well, possibly, but . . . I promise I'll keep it right with me at—”

The auto-nurse extended a metal appendage. “It will be put with the rest of your effects; it will not be damaged or tampered with. You may _not_ bring it in; there is too great a risk to the patients.”

The Doctor scowled, but gave the auto-nurse the screwdriver. He watched it put the screwdriver in one of the pockets of his coat and hang the coat in a locker by the door. It opened the door for him, then went to the second door and poked an appendage into a small opening. The second door opened and the Doctor stepped in as the auto-nurse retreated.

There was a humanoid male behind the nurse's station at the second door, one the Doctor had seen on his last visit. “Adora is in a massage therapy session right now, but she'll be out shortly. Are you able to wait ten minutes or so?”

“Of course,” the Doctor told him. “I don't mind at all; her treatment has to come first.”

The male nodded. “Come right this way, sir.”

The Doctor was led to a small, three walled room with a water-flow artwork piece on one wall and pastel kaleidoscope patterns on the other two which rippled and changed in time with the flow of water from the sculpture. He didn't like it himself, but could understand why some life-forms would like the space. He flipped through the pages of the book he had brought while he was waiting to pass the time, but stopped when he saw Adora coming. She was dressed in a simple, short turquoise robe and even at a distance she looked more healthy. Her hair was thicker, her eyes less sunken and her cheeks a little rounder. More than that her eyes had a sort of light in them that wasn't there before. He was glad to see the changes in her body, and hoped her psyche had been built up as well.

Adora smiled at him and gestured for him to sit. “It's kind of you to come. I wasn't very nice last time . . .”

“It's all right, Adora,” he reassured her. “I brought you something . . .”

Adora blushed as she took the book. “You always used to bring me presents, and I would always refuse. This time, I . . . thank you.” 

“You are welcome.”

Adora looked at their surroundings and whispered, “Do you hate this room as much as I do? It's supposed to be modern and in style, but if this is their style they can keep it.”

The Doctor chuckled, then asked in a low tone, “You don't even like the sculpture?”

“I like my water less tame. I love waterfalls and oceans, but this is like having a wolf on a leash. It just isn't right. The hospital has a hydrotherapy pool, but this poor thing is different.”

“How often can you go for a swim?” the Doctor wanted to know.

Adora said sadly, “Only two times a week. I'm supposed to try to get my muscles back in shape without overexercising so I don't go as much as I would like. I attend the yoga class they have for everyone, but it isn't the same.” 

“Isn't yoga good for your flexibility? I don't know much about it . . .”

Adora told the Doctor, “It's for a lot of things, like flexibility and balance and stretching. You should try it.”

The Doctor told her, “I actually don't have the time right now. I'm giving my poor TARDIS an overhaul, and there's plenty of work to do.”

“How do you find the parts?” Adora wanted to know. “It's not like there's anyone growing TARDIS-es any more.”

“I have to adapt other equipment or make my own. I'm not sure there aren't people somewhere that are growing them; not all TARDIS nurseries were on Gallifrey. But even if I could find a baby TARDIS, mine would never allow me to use it for parts and I doubt I could stomach it myself. It's just going to have to be patch and improvise.”

Adora said softly, “It's the same for me; it's all patches and quick fixes and bandaging . . . I sometimes wonder if I'll ever be whole again.”

The Doctor reached over and took her hand. Adora jumped slightly, but didn't pull away. “Healing takes time, Adora. Once they've stopped the bleeding they can start the mending. You've been ill for a long time, longer than just your time on Earth, so the process of getting well may take a while. The good thing is you've begun. You're doing the patching and bandaging you need to for now so you can dig deeper later.”

They sat still for a few minutes without speaking. After a bit Adora cleared her throat and murmured, “Thank you for bringing me here. You didn't have to, and I didn't want you to, but—” 

“I _did_ have to,” the Doctor replied. “You were in danger and suffering needlessly. I wasn't going to leave you in that state. That's not who I am.”

Adora looked deep into his eyes. “What happens after?” she asked.

“After what?”

“Once I'm well, what . . . what happens?”

The Doctor said seriously, “This is not the time for that particular conversation. Once you're better we can discuss what you want to do.”

Adora asked, “And how will you know when that is?”

“The doctors will tell me. But more importantly, _you'll_ tell me,” the Doctor explained. “I think you'll know when you're well enough to make more long-range plans.”

“But what if . . . when is too long? When will you leave?”

The Doctor squeezed Adora's hand gently. “I'm not going to leave without you, Adora; I told you that right at the start. You have as much time as you need to get better. If it takes years, if it takes regenerations, I'll stay.”

Adora spoke low. “And when will you be my doctor again?”

“Hopefully never. I'd rather be your . . .”

“Your what?”

The Doctor was about to answer, but just then a nurse stepped in. “I don't mean to intrude, Adora, but it's time for a meal. You know it's a big part of your treatment and your nutritionist is waiting . . .”

The Doctor stood hastily and told Adora in one breath, “It's all right; I don't want to get in the way, I can come again, just ask for me whenever you're ready, no need to worry, I'll come . . .” He squeezed Adora's hand once more and left as quickly as he could.

Adora was left to wonder as the nurse led her to the dining table.


	11. Chapter11

11—A Day of Firsts

The Doctor woke with a jerk and sat up quickly. He checked his internal time-sense and discovered he had slept longer than he thought—a whole four hours! He groaned loudly; he was going to be late for his visit with Adora. They had set up visitation for mornings on the first day of the week, afternoons the third, and evenings for the sixth. He wondered if he should call and say he would be late, but realized he was already late. No sense taking the time now.

As he jumped in the shower he tried to think why he had slept so long, but couldn't come up with a decent answer. He had been working hard on the TARDIS he knew, and he was feeling better about Adora . . .

Maybe that was it. He was finally feeling better about Adora. He was sure she was out of danger now; she had told him last visit that she was up to 110 pounds and officially on “caution” status, whatever that meant. The hearts damage was still an issue, but the doctor felt it might heal itself in time as long as she continued to eat well. She wouldn't be able to leave until she was on “recovery status”, which wouldn't be for a while yet, but she was definitely on her way and that had allowed the Doctor to relax, just a little.

He dressed as quickly as he could and darted out of the TARDIS. He flew to the hospital and turned over his items to the auto-nurse, then stopped at the nurse's station and panted, “Where's Adora?”

The nurse told him, “She's been waiting for you at the Activity Room; everyone's painting. She's been worried . . .”

“I overslept,” the Doctor admitted. “First time in my lives. Will I still be able to see her?”

“That will be up to Adora, but I don't think she'll have a problem. Go around the bubble counter-clockwise and you'll see the Activity Room.”

The Doctor hurried around the bubble and stopped short when he got to the Activity Room. Adora was there, her back to him as she painted the scene of a beach and a long ocean wave. The lines and angles were elementary and the curves crude, but it was the first creative thing he had ever seen her produce and he was proud of her, stepping so far out of her upbringing and her hard shell. The old Hedron wouldn't dream of doing something she might fail at. This new Adora was willing to risk failure in order to be true to herself, and it was wonderful to see.

Adora sensed a presence behind her and turned, then gave him a full smile as she hurried to him. “I was worried . . . did something happen?” 

“I overslept,” the Doctor admitted. “I'm not sure what happened; I apologize . . .”

“You've just been working too hard on your TARDIS, that's all. I wouldn't think I'd be telling you to take care of yourself,” she said, eyes twinkling.

“Don't let me disturb you, Adora, if you're in the middle of creative genius . . .”

Adora shook her head and led him to a more private space. “I can finish this while everyone's asleep, and I'd rather talk to you anyway. I have news.”

The Doctor was surprised. “What news? Your hearts are getting better?”

“I finished my whole breakfast! It's the first meal I've finished since I got here. I kept telling my nutritionist they were giving me too much, but I managed it today.”

“That's brilliant!” the Doctor told her. 

It seemed so natural what happened next; they were hugging, her head was tipped towards his, he leaned down . . . and they kissed. Their first kiss.

Both froze, lips still together. Neither even breathed for the space of about six seconds. Then Adora gasped, pulled away, and fled. The Doctor didn't call out or try to stop her. He stood still for a few moments, then rushed to the door to leave, his mind still trying to process what had just happened.

He had kissed Adora. And she had accepted it.

They had never been intimate in any sense of the word during their first lives together. Adora thought all physical intimacy was beneath her and was too haughty to respond to his attempts to foster emotional intimacy. She had put up as many walls between them as she could. They never touched, and sometimes didn't speak for days at a time. Usually when they had spoken it was because she felt he was being “embarrassing”, and the conversation was entirely her dressing him down on how he was going to wreck her life if he didn't start conforming. That had been one major reason he left Gallifrey on a survey mission to Earth. Going there had convinced him that he had been right about all his perceptions of love and caring and having real connections to those around him. Earth hadn't changed a thing about his world-view; it had only cemented it in place. That, of course had disgusted Adora and she pulled even further away. He had given up on her and pushed all of his love and attention on the children and grandchildren. That too, had been a waste of time and energy but he kept at it until Susan, wonderful Susan, had arrived. Once she was a teenager he saw his chance to really love someone, show someone the care and attention no other Gallifreyan would have accepted, and he took it. Susan never returned to Gallifrey and neither did he until he was forced to. He had tried to love Adora but she had made it impossible, until . . .

He had just kissed his wife for the first time ever after at least a century of trying to love her and she didn't yell or slap him or say it was too primitive an act to mention. She had actually accepted a little bit of love from him for the first time in all the years he had known her. It was astounding, unbelievable, impossible . . . except that it was true.

He wandered back to his TARDIS in a daze, his mind still reeling. Mechanically, he laid out his tools to work on the TARDIS, then left them there and walked away; he didn't dare work on her while he was so distracted. Something bad would happen. He opened the door into the interior of the TARDIS and just started walking, his brain barely connected to his feet. When he next got out of his thoughts enough to register where he was, he found himself outside of Susan's old room. Not sure why he had ended up there, he opened the door and looked in . . .

. . . and found a portrait of Adora in her first life, before any regenerations. It was in a line of other family portraits Susan had insisted on bringing with them when they left. The Doctor looked at the other paintings of his children and grandchildren, then settled his eyes on the picture of Adora. No, not Adora—this was Maraltha-Hedronisicalimar, the regal Time Lady, the woman who sneered at concepts like love and compassion and connection. To this woman nothing mattered but position and power and ambition. The disdain and haughtiness of this individual almost seeped out of the painting into the air. This was his wife, his nemesis, his chain locking him into the standards of decorum and pride of Gallifrey. He couldn't stand it then, and even less now.

Sudden fury overtook the Doctor. He yanked the portrait off the wall and threw it to the floor, smashing the glass. He reached in and tore the picture in two halves, then tore it again and again until there were only shreds left. He stopped, panting, all the rage gone. Maraltha-Hedronisicalimar was gone now, forever, and instead he had someone new in her place, someone who loved the ocean and oranges and was painting for herself. There was Adora now, and everything was different, and he loved her. He may have been opening himself up for more pain and disillusionment, but he didn't care. He loved Adora.

He just didn't know what he was going to do about it.

*****  
Adora didn't stop running until she reached her room, sliding the door shut behind her. She turned her head this way and that, searching for a place to escape but not really sure why. She almost hid under the bed, but settled for crouching down behind the foot of it, on the floor. She panted in huge gasps, and tried to make sense of what had happened.

The Doctor had kissed her. He hadn't planned on it, she was sure, and it was accidental, but it had happened. He had kissed her.

And she had liked it.

She had had some physical contact before. Her Earthly husband James had been a little surprised to find that she knew nothing about kissing or touching, but he had been a patient teacher and she had gotten used to it, though she never really enjoyed it. They had never gone further than undressing each other; James hadn't been interested in going beyond that point.

But this, this had been different. The Doctor had kissed her, and she liked it.

She wondered if he still considered them married. She hadn't acknowledged their bond on any level after the first three decades or so, and certainly not after he had returned from Earth. To her he had been an embarrassment, an outcast, a pariah. She had wanted nothing to do with him and thought he felt the same, but what if he hadn't? What if he had been waiting all this time, hoping against hope that she would finally come around, finally give in to his love?

And what if she actually had?

Pure terror filled her. She wanted to run, to hide. She had never felt so exposed, so raw, not in any of her lives. She didn't know what to do, how to feel. She wished there was somewhere for her to run to, somewhere to get away, but there wasn't. But she had to do something, had to navigate the maelstrom of emotions churning within her. What could she do? She could . . . she would . . . she would get away! Yes! She would break the glass at the door and get away! Picking up the desk chair, she ran from her room and headed for the door.

*****  
Lunnie was a practical, down-to-earth, observant member of her species, and enjoyed a “seventh sense” when it came to sensing tension on the Psych Bubble. She hadn't needed any of those advantages to know there would be trouble when she saw Adora racing to her room while her visitor hurried out. She called out, “Crash,” the code word for a crisis on the bubble, and saw everyone prepare themselves for what might be coming. She placed herself close to the bubble door and waited, knowing that though she was “only” a social worker she was strong, tough, and quick on her tentacles. Someone buzzed the auto-nurse outside the second locked door and it responded immediately by turning on its force generator to block the entrance should someone actually make it through the doors. No one had in a long time, but it was better to be safe than to lose a patient and upset everyone.

A nurse behind the nurse's station desk asked, “Who's crashing?”

Lunnie kept herself ready as she told her, “Adora. Her visitor must have upset her pretty badly. Now let's not all rush her at once; she won't take a restraint well. Have all the other patients been moved to Station Five? The last thing we want is a big, messy scene that disrupts everyone.”

“Everyone else is at Station Five with Kunal and Brae, but there's still plenty of staff if it comes to it,” someone said.

“Only as a last resort,” Lunnie reminded them.

Adora came barreling out of her room just then, a desk chair in hand. She got in one good whack at the door and then Lunnie grabbed the chair from behind with two tentacles and pulled it out of her hands. Adora then pounded on the glass with her fists, crying, “Let me out! Let me out! I have to get away, go away! Let me _out_!”

Lunnie waved the others away with a free tentacle as Adora sank to her knees, still hammering on the door and sobbing. She handed the chair off to someone and approached cautiously. “Adora, I can see you're upset, but this isn't the way to act; you can't be throwing chairs at things. Why don't you come with me somewhere private and we can talk.”

“I want to get away, get out!” Adora continued to scream. “I want to _go_!”

“Adora, you're not thinking clearly right now,” Lunnie told her. “We can talk about whatever is upsetting you, but you're not leaving the Bubble in the state you're in. Let's go to a place away from everyone and we can work this out together.”

Lunnie helped Adora get to her feet and walked with her into the Safe Room, keeping a good grip in case Adora tried to get away. Once she settled Adora on a thick cushion she positioned herself between Adora and the door, noticing that backup was right outside as protocol directed. She started with a basic assessment question. “Adora, do you know where you are?”

“I'm in the hospital,” Adora wailed.

“And do you know who I am?”

“You're my social worker,” Adora responded.

Lunnie dug a bit deeper. “Can you tell me why you're upset?”

Adora was still crying. “I want to go, I have to get away. I don't know what to do!”

“What are you trying to get away from, Adora? Is it something to do with your visit?”

“I don't want to see the Doctor! I don't want him to come any more, not ever! I want to get away . . .”

Lunnie told Adora, “You don't have to see him if you don't want to see him, Adora. We want this to be a safe place for you so you can get better and that means you decide who from the outside sees you and who doesn't. We will keep you safe from him but the best way for that to happen is for you to stay here. Did he hurt you in some way?”

Adora sniffled, “He kissed me. I don't . . . I can't . . .”

Lunnie was direct with her next question. “Was he assaulting you, Adora? Did he force himself on you?”

“It wasn't like that,” Adora responded. “He didn't plan it or anything . . . it just happened.”

“But you didn't want it to happen?”

“I _liked_ it!” Adora wailed.

Lunnie sat back and thought for a minute before speaking. “There's nothing wrong with liking physical contact, Adora, but it's your body and if you don't want to share it that's fine. Do you want him banned permanently? Is he a danger to you?”

“I don't . . . he wouldn't hurt me . . . I don't want him to come again, he just confuses me . . . I don't know what I want!”

“You have all the time you need to work out how you feel about it, Adora,” Lunnie soothed. “If you don't want him back we will honor that request. If at some point you change your mind and want to see him again that's all right, too. You don't have to decide anything at the moment, especially not while you're still upset. This is all about you, Adora, and what you need.”

Adora couldn't stop the tears. “ But I don't _know_ what I need!”

“Then I want you to take the time and be patient with yourself until you do know. And you can talk to any of us to work out how you're feeling. But,” Lunnie said firmly, “you can't be throwing furniture and trying to break things. You have to let us know in other ways that you're upset, productive ways. We've talked before about journaling or coming here to the Safe Room and letting your emotions out. I want to see you using more of these tools to deal with your stress. Do you think you can do that?”

“I'll try,” Adora answered. “I'm sorry.”

“That's all right, Adora. Let's stay in here a while longer so you can get yourself under control. Would you like a journal?”

“Not . . . not right now,” Adora hiccuped.

Lunnie asked, “Would you like to process some more?” 

“I don't know.”

“Then let's just sit together, and you can say whatever you choose if you want to talk.”

Lunnie was pleased that Adora was able to calm down within the space of fifteen minutes and go back to her room until lunchtime. She gave the nutritionist a heads-up that Adora might not have a good lunch period then went to the nurse's station and wrote up the incident, a job well done.


	12. Chapter 12

12—Bad Vibes

The Doctor felt no surprise at all when the hospital called and revoked his visitation privileges, only guilt and sadness. He had completely forgotten himself and had hurt Adora in the process; of course she wouldn't want to see him. The Doctor desperately hoped she would change her mind at some point but for the time being he was unwelcome and knew it; he would stay away. He replayed the scene over and over in his mind, ashamed but happy that it had happened. If only Adora had felt the same . . . 

The pleasure turned to ashes in his mouth as he considered the kiss from Adora's point of view. Had she ever been kissed in any of her lives? He didn't know. He knew he probably had been going beyond her comfort zone merely by holding her hand, how much more so with a kiss? He had obviously pushed too hard too soon and she was in a fragile state already. He should have kept that in mind. He had hurt Adora, and for that he was sorry.

But for all of his misgivings, he couldn't regret it.

The Doctor tried to keep his mind on other things. There was still a long way to go in the overhaul of his TARDIS. He was now working on the basic, critical systems of the ship, ones he couldn't afford to make mistakes on. He worked each day until he felt himself losing concentration, then would stop and do something different. Each day he would spend several hours exercising; he usually was running a lot in his adventures but with being grounded he had to keep fit in other ways. He made it a point to visit the TARDIS library and either relax with a book or watch a film. Some days the Doctor went to the west side of the city where there was an electronics dump and sifted through the junk, looking for things to cannibalize and make whatever he might need. Every third day he went to the Market District and got food supplies, either ready-made items or things that would be easy to make and fun to prepare. The Doctor was not the greatest cook but he enjoyed experimenting with local fresh foods and spices. He slept two hours a week, showered twice a day, and tried to adjust to the “new normal” of living in one place and one time. It was about killing him and he was bored stiff, but he refused to go off-planet for even five minutes. He had promised Adora he would not leave the city, and it was a promise the Doctor would keep. 

Fifty days after he had been banned he was deep into a volume of Droxian history when the special phone rang. He picked up the phone, took a deep breath and answered. “Hello?”

“This is the Psych Bubble of Nafujan Hospital . . . is this the Doctor?”

“Yes, this is the Doctor.”

“I have a message for you from Adora. She was concerned you might have left . . .”

The Doctor answered hurriedly, “Oh no, I wouldn't leave without her. Is she doing well?”

“She is interested in seeing you, within certain guidelines.”

The Doctor was curious. “What kind of guidelines?”

The being on the other end explained, “The visit will be monitored and terminated at either Adora's wish or the direction of the observer. If at any time the observer feels it is necessary to dismiss you or Adora asks you to leave you will do so immediately and without comment. Are you willing to visit within these parameters?”

He winced, but answered, “I can follow those rules.”

“Then you are welcome to stop by this afternoon.”

*****  
When the Doctor arrived he was met at the door by a large lavender octopus with four eyes and a lanyard around her neck attached to a key card. She held a clipboard in one tentacle and a pen in another, and straightened a silver bow in her thick hair with two more. She appraised him then said in a businesslike manner, “My name is Lunnie and I will be observing your visit today. I will try to interfere as little as possible but I am here to ensure Adora's physical and emotional safety and I take that task very seriously. To that end you will not initiate any physical contact whatsoever and will not try to insist Adora do so or make her feel bad about refusing. Are we clear?”

The Doctor nodded. “I understand.”

He followed Lunnie around the curve of the bubble to a meeting area. There was a long table positioned at a right angle to the bubble with comfortable-looking chairs set around it. There was a view of a garden through the glass, and he could see caretakers working busily. Adora was already sitting at the table, looking nervous. He went and sat across from her while Lunnie positioned herself at the far end of the table and started writing something on the clipboard. The Doctor felt ill at ease but he knew Adora was uncomfortable as well, which was his fault. He had only himself to blame for the awkwardness and was glad Adora would see him at all, so he forced himself to make the best of it. “It's good to see you Adora,” he told her. “Have you been well?”

“I'm trying,” Adora responded, fidgeting in her chair. “I'm still on caution status since I've had some setbacks—” 

“About that,” the Doctor broke in, “I want to apologize for last time. I had no right to kiss you and I know it made you upset . . .”

Adora looked down at the table. “I don't want to talk about it,” she mumbled.

“I just want you to know it—”

“Move on,” Lunnie directed.

He scowled, but stopped. “Have you been swimming more?” he asked after a moment.

“I get to go every day now,” Adora said. “I'm really trying to build up my endurance, but they still limit my exercising due to the hearts damage. I can't push myself too far yet.”

“And what else have you been doing?”

“I'm allowed to go to the garden down there and harvest the fruits and vegetables and cook them for myself and the others, if there's enough,” Adora explained. “I thought of becoming a vegetarian but my nutritionist said it's not allowed while I'm here; he said limiting my diet in any way would be detrimental at this point.”

“Do you like the cooking?” the Doctor wanted to know.

Adora gave a tiny smile. “I like it; it's fun to work with picked-off-the-vine ingredients. Some of the spices are a bit odd, but it's a safe way to be adventurous. Not all of us can gallivant around the cosmos saving everyone,” she teased.

“But I love the running!” he protested, grinning.

“Speaking of which, have you been all right?” she asked a bit anxiously. “I mean you're used to traveling around, being in different places all the time . . .”

“I make do,” he told Adora. “My TARDIS still has a way to go before she can travel anyway. I have to think of her, too. But even if she were in tip-top shape, I promised not to leave the city and I won't.”

“But you must be so bored . . .”

The Doctor was going to be frank with Adora, but stopped himself just in time. She had enough burdens to bear without feeling guilty about his situation. “I'm fine,” he reassured her.

“Don't you have any fun? Is working on your TARDIS all you do?” Adora questioned.

“Oh, not at all,” he replied. “I go find parts for her and and exercise and go to the market every few days . . .”

“None of that sounds like fun,” Adora told him, frowning.

“I also read and sometimes watch films.”

“You are not having any fun,” Adora told him sternly. “I want you to go to some of the museums here, especially the science center.”

The Doctor laughed. “And what would I do there, debunk ninety-nine percent of the exhibits?”

“It would get you out more instead of being locked in a box all the time. A TARDIS is special, but it's still a box in its own way.” Adora paused, then said sadly, “I'm sorry you're not having fun. If you weren't waiting for me you'd be off exploring and saving galaxies and having all the fun you could want. I'm so sorry . . .”

“You have nothing to be sorry about,” the Doctor told her firmly. “You deserve the best of care and deserve to take as much time as you need to heal. Besides, I would probably be locked in a dungeon right now or trying to escape my execution if I weren't here. You're doing me a favor.”

“There's something else I'm sorry for,” Adora said in a small voice. “You've never been anything but kind and compassionate toward me, but I've treated you shamefully all the time we've known each other. I've been thinking hard about who I want to be from here on out, but I can't move forward while I'm still feeling bad about the past. So I apologize, for everything.”

“I accept your apology,” the Doctor told her gently. He almost reached for her hand but froze, remembering that he was being watched for just that kind of behavior and was inches away from being thrown out, literally. He could almost feel Lunnie's glare from the other end of the table. He cleared his throat and pulled his hands back toward himself.

“I want you to know I hold no grudges toward you for our past,” the Doctor told Adora after a moment. “We were both different people, literally, and we were bad for each other from the first. We both need to move on from those days. I just hope . . . do you think we could do it together?”

Adora looked back down at the table. “I . . . I don't know,” she said, her voice wobbling.

The Doctor was going to push for a more definitive answer, but stopped himself. Adora was trying to recover from a deadly illness, one that distorted her world view and feelings about herself. The last thing she needed was pressure from him to start a relationship. For the first time he was glad there was an observer there; Lunnie's presence was making him change his words and be less demanding of Adora. Without her there the Doctor would probably have insisted that Adora make a decision, accept his friendship and advances, force her to be something she wasn't yet, and might not ever be. Just because they were being nice to each other didn't mean the Doctor had any right to read more into what they had together than what Adora was giving. He had to back off, now. “I don't want to pressure you, Adora,” he said softly. “Just know that I'm here as whatever you need me to be.”

Adora still wouldn't look at him. “Okay,” she whispered.

The Doctor felt very uncomfortable. Was Adora really that scared of him? Had he traumatized her with that one kiss? He felt like a brute; he must have wounded her badly for her to be this unsure of herself, unsure of him. He stood up and said tightly, “I think I'd better be going.”  
“I . . . I'm sorry,” Adora whimpered. “I didn't mean to make you—”

“You've done nothing wrong Adora,” Lunnie said firmly. “I think the Doctor is leaving for his own reasons, good reasons. It has nothing to do with you, Adora, and you don't need to apologize. Am I right, Doctor?”

It had _everything_ to do with Adora, but the Doctor knew what was called for. “I'm not upset with you Adora, and I'll come see you whenever you want. I . . . it's just time for me to go.”

Once the Doctor left the hospital he trudged his way back to his TARDIS. About halfway there he sat down on a bench and put his head in his hands. He felt completely discouraged and disgusted with himself. Had he really expected Adora to jump into his arms? They had been estranged in all the time they were living in the same dwelling and hadn't spent more than a few hours together in centuries! Even worse, Adora was deathly ill. He had no right to push himself on her at this stage. He felt deeply ashamed.

As he sat there, he suddenly felt the presence of someone else on the bench. He looked up, and there next to him was a female Hensua. Hensuas had cone-shaped heads and brown scales instead of skin, but they were still humanoid as far as number and position of arms, legs, eyes, and ears. They were also well-known for being psychics, fortune-tellers, and palm-readers. As he lifted his head, the Hensua smiled at him and said brightly, “I believe you are in need of my services. Would you allow me to ply my trade?”

The Doctor shook his head. “I'm not interested in hocus-pocus, and I have no money.”

The smile widened. “This one's on the house, traveler; I sensed you from three blocks over. And though you might not believe in me, I certainly believe in _you_. I can already feel something about your future, but I'd rather check your palm and confirm it. Any objections?”

The Doctor sighed mightily, but held out his hand.

The Hensua studied his palm carefully, moving his hand this way and that while humming softly. After a long time she told him quietly, “Your sadness will turn to joy, but then your joy will turn to sorrow. And remember, Time Lord—a dream fulfilled by half is worse than a dream not fulfilled at all. I wish I had better news for you, but that's all you get.”

She dropped his hand and sauntered off. 

The Doctor waited until he couldn't see her any more, then got up and headed back to his TARDIS.


	13. Chapter 13

13—Baby Steps

Adora sat listlessly at the lunch table, stirring her food instead of eating it. She knew her nutritionist would comment, but she just couldn't do any more. “I'm done,” she announced.

The nutritionist sighed. “Adora, you know if you don't finish at least fifty percent—” 

“I don't care,” Adora snapped. “I don't want any more.”

“All right, Adora,” the nutritionist replied. “I don't want to harp on this, but this is the sixteenth meal out of twenty-one this week where you haven't reached fifty percent and the second week in a row you haven't eaten to maintenance level. You really need to think about that.” 

He took her plate and told her, “I recommend you take some time to consider what's going on and _highly_ recommend you talk to someone about it. You've been here twenty-one weeks but you're still on caution status. Your gaining has stalled, you've been withdrawing more and more at the table and you won't even cook anymore. Talk to someone, Adora. Talk, and soon.”

Adora shuffled back to her room and sat on her bed. It was all too much. She was tired of the hospital, tired of having people try to talk to her about stuff she didn't want to think about, tired of everything. She wanted to go back to the days before the Doctor found her, when she was invisible and unmemorable. She had never bonded with anyone at work, she hadn't gotten involved with any activities outside of work so she didn't have any friends and she hadn't cared. It was just her and no one else, no one to bother her, no one to set up rules or expectations, no one to see she even existed. She wanted it back, but of course they weren't about to let her have it and even if the hospital discharged her that minute the Doctor would balk at the idea of returning her to Earth. Everyone here wanted the same thing—her to be healthy and happy with herself. What they didn't understand was that she had never been happy, wasn't happy and never would be happy as long as she was alive. The concept was just beyond her. She had tried it for a while, had gotten involved in activities and projects and tried to build relationships, but it hadn't lasted and all she had to fall back on was isolation. Trouble was, they wouldn't let her be invisible here. They let her choose a lot of things, but they wouldn't let her choose to be a hermit in her room all the time. Someone was always sticking their head in and asking about her, reaching out to her . . . and she couldn't bring herself to reach back. 

Well, she had a choice. She could coast along until they gave up, or she could state the problem clearly and leave it for them to deal with, knowing her position. She decided it was only fair to be honest. She marched out and headed for the nurse's station. “Is Lunnie here?” she asked.

Lunnie popped her head out above the desk and told her pleasantly, “I can be with you in a minute, Adora; we're trying to untangle some cords down here and all my tentacles are tied up. Why don't you wait for me in the Safe Room?”

Adora went to the Safe Room and sat down on a cushion, the only movable furniture in the space. The couches and chairs were bolted down and well-padded. The walls were padded, as was the door that could be closed and locked from the outside, and there was only a narrow slit in the door to let someone see into the room. There was a section for throwing soft items or beating on dummies with foam “bats” and a punching bag with gloves in a corner, but nothing sharp or dangerous. Though she was encouraged to come here often she rarely did and when she did come she would only sit on a cushion and ignored the “breakout equipment”.

Lunnie came in a few minutes later. She straightened the bow in her hair with two tentacles as she “walked” with most of the others. “I'm glad you're seeking me out, Adora, that shows real maturity. So, what's on your mind?”

“I felt that you—you staff—need to know where I'm coming from.”

Lunnie settled herself comfortably. “And where are you coming from?”

Adora tried to gather her thoughts, then blurted out, “I don't want you to help me. I don't want anyone to pay attention to me or work with me or anything. I want to be left alone, to be invisible. It's how things were in my last life, and I want it back. That's all I have to say.”

“I want to ask a question—did that life make you happy?”

Adora shook her head and stood to leave. “Happy doesn't matter. I was separated from everyone and everything. I want that again and I don't want to talk about it.”

“A life like that is unhealthy, unproductive, and gives nothing back to society at large,” Lunnie declared. “I just have a question or two more and then I'll leave you alone. When in all your lives have you felt the most connected with others, the most involved with the outside world, the least drawn into yourself?” 

Adora stopped at the door and said slowly, “That would have been either my first life as a human, or here at the hospital, for a while.”

“And what similarities did both those periods share? What made them different from the rest of your lives?” Lunnie pressed.

Adora considered for a minute. She really thought about what Lunnie was asking her and forgot about her decision to end the conversation. Finally she said, “I wasn't self-conscious. I felt comfortable in my environment, and I was able to make mistakes without worrying about the consequences. Also, no one made any emotional demands of me.”

“And who did you turn to emotionally, Adora?” Lunnie asked softly.

“No one,” Adora confessed as she sat down again. “On Gallifrey, expressing feelings was . . . primitive. The Doctor was one of the few in touch with his feelings and he didn't hide it. On Earth, my husband James wasn't any more open with his feelings than I was, and after that I was alone.”

Lunnie studied Adora carefully. “I think you might be afraid of the things you feel. You've seemed happy at times during your stay here, but you've resisted any attempts people have made to get beyond the superficial and let yourself really dig in to how your emotions work. One concern of the staff is that you tend to “stuff” your feelings, both positive and negative. We've discussed not expressing one's emotions both in individual and in group therapy sessions, and the damage that can do. What do you think?”

“Feelings are bad!” Adora insisted.

“Feelings are normal and can give you a lot of information,” Lunnie corrected. “Ignoring that information ends up being detrimental both physically and emotionally. We want you to learn a balance between being controlled by your emotions and denying them. If you want to have real relationships, you have to know how to manage what you feel.”

Adora sat quietly, considering. After a bit she said, “I don't want people to care about me.”

“Why not?” Lunnie wanted to know.

“If people care about me, I have to care back,” Adora responded.

 

Lunnie asked, “What's wrong with caring about other people?”  
“What if I do it wrong? I've only cared about me for so long, I don't know how to be nice to others.” Adora looked miserable.

Lunnie shook her head. “I don't agree with that assessment, Adora; you've been friendly and accepting of all the other patients here even when you seemed to feel awkward about it. Could it be you're scared of getting involved with people and situations you can't control?”

“I . . . I don't know. I just don't relate to other people well.”

“For someone who grew up in the environment you describe, I think you've been doing very well,” Lunnie encouraged. “Just keep practicing. One thing you need to know—the staff here are good people to practice those skills on, and we'll all feel more comfortable if you come to us more often. I want you to consider that talking about how you feel is just as important as finishing a meal. Anorexia is as much a mental disease as it is a physical one.”

“I don't want to talk to staff,” Adora said in a flat tone.

“We've been talking for the last five minutes, Adora, and you've done well. Next time—” 

“Next time!?” Adora raised her voice. “There wasn't supposed to be a _this_ time! You tricked me into talking with you! I hate you! You tricked me . . .”

“I wasn't trying to trick you, Adora. I asked a few questions and you responded. There's nothing wrong with that, or with what you told me. Now if you're feeling angry I want you to handle it maturely. Why don't you try going into the Breakout Corner and doing some damage?”

Adora rushed into the corner and grabbed a foam bat. She turned back to Lunnie, eyes blazing, and took a few steps forward.

Lunnie told her calmly, “Not like that, Adora; we never strike other people. But you can feel free to go at one of the Poor Pounded Pauls over there . . .”

Adora moved back toward one of the dummies in the corner and took a good whack. She did it again and again while Lunnie waited patiently. Finally Adora couldn't lift the bat any more and she dropped it, panting. She staggered out of the corner and flopped onto one of the cushions to catch her breath. 

Lunnie asked quietly, “Feeling a bit better?”

Adora couldn't speak, but she nodded.

“Then I want to tell you something. Anger is an emotion, but it's also a mask. When people get angry, it's because they feel either embarrassed, scared, or hurt. Do you think your anger was because of hurt feelings?”

Adora shook her head, still breathing hard.

“Were you feeling embarrassed about talking to me? Did you get upset because you weren't planning on getting 'down-and-dirty' about how you felt? Were you scared of it?”

“I . . . I don't . . . I don't need help! I don't _want_ help!” Adora gasped.

Lunnie told Adora, “There's nothing weak or wrong with asking for the help you need, Adora. In fact, it's a show of strength to admit that you can't do it on your own. Think about that one for a while.”

Lunnie “stood” on her tentacles, then left the Safe Room.


	14. Chapter 14

14—Unexpected

The Doctor walked briskly to the hospital, enjoying the mild air and the odor of fragrant blossoms. The late spring afternoon reminded him how long he had been on Yamexibon. It had been eight months since Adora had been admitted, and five weeks since they stopped having monitored visits. The Doctor now saw her for three hours twice a week and it seemed to work for both of them. She had reached 124 pounds and was proud of herself. She had finally reached a stage where she was slowly talking, slowly examining her control issues and how they had led to her illness, he could bring her food gifts, and the nutritionist didn't sit with her for every meal. She was not ready for discharge yet, but she was well on her way. The Doctor was very proud of Adora.

He was also very proud of himself. Though it had been almost too much to stand, he had managed to stay on the planet for eight whole months without losing his mind. It was mostly due to his promise to Adora, but also in part to something he had never dreamed would happen—he had a job, a paying one.

It was Adora's fault really; she had been the one to suggest he go to the science center. He ended up taking her advice late one morning when he just couldn't work on his TARDIS any more and desperately needed a laugh. Yamexibon boasted the greatest medical facilities within a range of nine hundred seventy galaxies, but their knowledge in the other branches of science and technology was rather limited. He got his visitor's pass and prepared himself to be entertained by what the Yamexibons considered “science”.

As he was chuckling over one of the exhibits on astrophysics, a fat, middle-aged woman with bright blonde hair to his left growled, “You find some of this amusing? Astrophysics is no joke, young man. One day our people may be able to travel through the stars at unheard of speeds!” 

“You might get there someday,” the Doctor agreed, “but not if this exhibit shows your underlying computations. I didn't mean to be rude, but so much of this is just . . . wrong.” 

“And you think you can do better?” 

For the next six hours he debated and sparred with the woman, Doctor Tegamoon. They delved into super-string theory, temporal anomalies, and advanced astrophysics. When the science center asked them to leave in the evening they went to a nearby restaurant and kept going. When _that_ place kicked them out, Doctor Tegamoon gave him her business card and invited him to meet with her at the Fremlor Academy, the premier college on Yamexibon for the advancement of the hard sciences. The Doctor accepted the invitation and stopped by. He had planned on spending a day or two pointing the faculty in the right direction; instead he landed a position as an instructor with some of the professors sitting in on his classes. He taught advanced astrophysics and super-string theory four days a week. He really enjoyed himself, but made sure not to teach them too much; he wasn't sure how it would affect the timelines.

But today was not about work; today was about Adora. They had been forming a friendship, fumbling and awkward at first, but with gradual progress. She was getting better at saying what she needed, getting better at handling things when she wasn't in control, and getting better at controlling herself. He was getting better at accepting the level of involvement they had with each other without pushing for more and not rushing Adora. They were both learning about each other, and themselves.

He walked into the Psych Bubble and nodded at the aide behind the nurse's desk. “Is everything all right?” he asked, hearing raised voices.

“We're having a minor issue, so we're asking you and Adora to have your visit in her room today. You know where her room is?”

“I'm not exactly sure . . .” the Doctor admitted.

“I'll walk you there,” the aide told him. 

Adora's room was in the back part of the Bubble. There was a thin sliding door to provide privacy, but the Doctor could understand why she chose to visit in other places on the unit. The nurse knocked, then said, “Adora? Your friend is here. You'll have to visit in here I'm afraid, but no one's going to bother you.”

Adora answered, “I guess it's all right for now . . . can you come get us when we can be back on the Bubble?”

“I'd be glad to,” the nurse told them and then left.

The Doctor looked around the room. It was painted a soft blue with cream colored accents and furniture. There was a full-sized bed, a comfortable-looking chair and desk, and pictures Adora had painted were on the walls in plain frames. Most of the pictures were of ocean waves and beaches, though there was one that must have been a self-portrait. The room was a bit institutional but they had made it as comfortable as they could and he felt good knowing Adora had made a space for herself. He sat at the desk as he asked, “How are you doing today, Adora?”

Adora sat on the bed, looking a little annoyed. “Two of the other patients got into a fight during today's group therapy session, so they've got the rest of us in our rooms until things settle down. How's the teaching?”

“Work is going well; we're really rolling on super-string theory. I can't tell them too much, but they're really digging in to what I can discuss. But that's not for today; I want to hear how things are going for you. Are your hearts stronger yet?”

Adora patted the bed next to her. “You don't have to sit all the way over there . . .”

The Doctor thought about it then got up and sat next to her. “Better?” he asked.

“I . . . I just want to be close to you. Massage therapy has taught me that being close is one thing, but being close to someone you . . . care about . . .”

“It is a different animal entirely, you're right.” The Doctor put an arm around her and gave her a squeeze.

Adora told him, “I've been talking to PX-Two-Fourteen, my therapist, and he says sometimes we have to reach out even if we are afraid, because not reaching out leaves everything closed up where you can't get to it, even the good things. And I want the good things.”

The Doctor nodded. “We all want good things,” he agreed. “And often we need to ask for those things because people can't just know what we need; we have to tell them.”

“Then there's something I have to tell you,” Adora said. “When you . . . when . . . I liked it when you kissed me.”

“All right,” the Doctor answered cautiously. “We can do it again some day if you want . . .”

“Why not now?”

The Doctor shook his head. “I don't want to take advantage of you, especially not while you're ill. Maybe once you're better . . .”

“It's not taking advantage if I ask you to,” Adora insisted. “I thought you'd be pleased . . .”

The Doctor stood. “It's not about pleasing me, Adora; it's about you and your recovery. I think I had better go.”

Adora grabbed his arm and pulled him back down. “Please don't go, please. I want to kiss you. I want to hold you. Everyone tells me to ask for what I want; what good is it if you all say 'no' when I ask?”

The Doctor looked concerned. “You're sure?”

Adora didn't answer with words; she just brought her mouth to his. The kiss was soft and gentle at first, then hungry with need. The Doctor didn't resist until she started taking off his suit jacket. He pulled away and told her, “Wait, Adora. Wait, just for a minute.”

“Wait for what? I want this!” Adora was adamant.

“Let's go at this slowly. Have you ever done this before?” the Doctor wanted to know. 

Adora nodded. “James and I would take our clothes off all the time . . .”

“Did you do anything else?”

Adora was quiet for a moment, then confessed, “We didn't; he wasn't interested . . .”

“Sexual intercourse is pleasurable if you are with the right person and it's done slowly and lovingly.” The Doctor held Adora's hands in his own so she couldn't get to his clothes.

“How do you know about sex? Were you involved with humans?”

“Oh, no!” The Doctor was horrified. “That wouldn't have been good at all; talk about taking advantage. Romana and I experimented; Romanadvoratrelundar—you remember her?”

“I think she was before my time,” Adora told him. “but you're not going to distract me. If you don't desire me, I understand . . .”

“You are desirable Adora; that's not the issue. I don't—” 

Adora kissed him again, then pleaded, “I want this, and you said it would be okay. You said to ask for what I want; now I'm asking.”

The Doctor gave himself up to Adora's advances and slipped off his suit coat with her help then removed her blouse, kissing her the whole time. He didn't rush; he wanted Adora to feel special and he knew she was worth taking his time. Once they were both naked he stopped her again and said softly, “If I'm hurting you, you _have_ to tell me. If you get scared, you _have_ to tell me. If at any time you want me to stop, for any reason, you _have_ to tell me. Understand?”

Adora nodded, and kissed him until they both shed their inhibitions.

*****  
They made love several times then held each other close. At last Adora sat up, covered in a sheet and told the Doctor, “You should probably go; it's been almost three hours and I don't want the staff to be suspicious. You won't be angry, will you? I mean, I don't want you to rush off, but . . .”

The Doctor sat up himself and stroked Adora's hair before looking for his clothing. “I want you to feel comfortable, Love, and I'll do what I have to so you are. I'll visit you in a few days?”

“Does it have to be that long?”

The Doctor looked worried and stopped dressing. “I have to teach tomorrow . . .”

Adora smiled at him re-assuredly. “I was just teasing; I know how important your work is to you. Just don't forget about me, okay?”

“How could I forget you, especially now? I love you, Adora. I can't be more serious about it; I love you.” He pulled Adora close and gave her a slow kiss, then laced up his trainers and slipped out of the room.

Adora got dressed slowly and straightened up the bed. She waited a good ten minutes before she came out on the Bubble and went to the nurse's desk. “Can we come out of our rooms yet?” she asked innocently.


	15. Chapter 15

15—Completely Unexpected

The Doctor had just finished an evening lecture on magnetohydrodynamics and how it related to astrophysics when the special phone rang. Surprised, he hurried to his coat pocket and got out the device. “Hello, this is the Doctor . . .”

“This is the Psych Bubble at Nafujan Hospital; you're needed right away. Something's happened to Adora. Please—”

The Doctor dropped the phone in his pocket and left the classroom at a dead run. 

He got to the Psych Bubble and tried to control his impatience as the auto-nurse took its time collecting his effects. Once he was inside he looked around wildly for someone to tell him the news. “What's wrong with Adora? Did she fall? Was she hurt by someone else? What happened!?” he cried out, bewildered.

Doctor Brikk came out of his office near the nurse's desk and said in a tight voice, “I want to speak with you in private, Doctor, and then you can see Adora. She's not in immediate danger so you have time to hear what I have to say.”

The Doctor followed Doctor Brikk into his office and shut the door behind them. Doctor Brikk motioned for him to sit, but the Doctor remained where he was by the door. “Is Adora worse? Has she hurt herself?”

“Adora is pregnant with twins,” Doctor Brikk announced flatly.

The Doctor gaped, then tottered over and dropped into a chair. “Pregnant? You're sure?”

Doctor Brikk nodded. “We were doing a scan to see if the hearts damage had been resolved and picked up the fetal heart tones. We then confirmed it with an endoscopic ultrasound of the uterus itself. She's six weeks along. I suppose you understand the gravity of the situation . . .”

The Doctor's mind whirled. “I can't believe it.”

“You had better,” Doctor Brikk told him sternly. “This pregnancy makes Adora's situation even more tenuous. She has enough hormonal and metabolic instability; now there will be even more fluctuation. Her hearts will have to work harder since there's more demands put on them. We'll need to change the whole approach to her treatment; we can't let her run the show if there's other lives we need to sustain. Everything about Adora's case has just been complicated by a factor of ten, all because you and she decided to 'fool around' without thinking things through. I've already informed Adora she will be on 'critical status' until the babies are born and she didn't seem to have any issue with it. I am deeply disappointed, Doctor, especially given the fact that you knew she would be able to bear a child once she was healthy enough.”

The Doctor nodded, deeply ashamed. “I'm the one to blame, I know that. I never even told Adora she could become pregnant.”

Doctor Brikk's scowl deepened. “You didn't tell her? That borders on being criminal! You had no right to withhold that type of information from her; I didn't say it because I assumed you told her yourself. If she sues you it'll serve you right!”

The Doctor put his face in his hands. “I didn't even think; I . . . I deeply apologize . . .”

“It's not me you have to apologize to. Adora's in her room.” Doctor Brikk gave a dismissive wave, then focused on his computer screen.

The Doctor stood and left quietly, but before he could get to Adora's room, Lunnie cornered him and hissed, “You irrational, irresponsible, selfish idiot! I can't believe how stupid you are; do you have even two brain cells working in your skull?”

The Doctor backed up a bit, intimidated by Lunnie's glare and thrashing tentacles. “I—”

“Have you never heard of _'safe sex'_? Would it have hurt to come down to the nurse's desk and discreetly ask for a condom? What were you thinking? Were you thinking anything at all!? You certainly weren't considering Adora and her well-being and now there's babies thrown into the mix! She's _anorexic_ , you fool! How's she supposed to provide these babies with nutrition when she can't manage to get her own? It's taken her nine months to gain thirty pounds and now we've got to do it all over again! She's not even up to maintenance weight yet, and if you think for one second you're going to waltz out of here with her on your arm you are _sadly_ mistaken! She's going to be here for the entire pregnancy and you'll be lucky if she gets out after these babies are born; she or they might need specialized treatment depending on how things roll.”

Lunnie's face was inches from the Doctor's and her four eyes were burning through him like lasers. “The _only_ thing stopping me from throttling you and losing my job is that Adora has made a deep connection to you on an emotional level and taking that away would make things worse. If I had my way you'd be deported and banned from every planet in this galaxy, but Adora assures me it was consensual and insists she pushed you into it. I talked to her about how this complicates things for her and her recovery, but the one I'm blaming is you. You were supposed to be the adult! You _knew_ she was sick. You _knew_ she could bear children—you got the scan results from Doctor Brikk himself. You _knew_ she was emotionally fragile, but you kept pushing and pushing anyway and now there's babies; that is, _if_ they survive! You had better pray to whatever god you worship that you're a better support to Adora than you've shown yourself so far because if you so much as _think_ of hurting her any more I'll do you in myself! Now get out of here and start looking at cribs and rocking chairs; Adora's started nesting early.” 

The Doctor looked around wildly. “Nesting? What's that? Is she really building a—”

“Don't you know _anything_ about pregnancy?”

He shook his head. “There weren't pregnancies on Gallifrey. Hadn't been for many millennia. Gallifreyan children were Loomed and didn't get out until they were three years old. We didn't have babies.”

Lunnie looked a little ashamed of herself, but said stoutly, “Well, you're going to have to learn; Adora can't handle this all by herself. And don't think you're going to shirk your duty and leave because I will hunt you down and it won't be pretty. You _are_ going to take responsibility, aren't you?”

The Doctor protested indignantly, “Of course I'll take responsibility and of course I'll be here to help Adora through it all. These are my children; I wouldn't dream of leaving her.”

“You had better not,” Lunnie told him. “Go to the library and take out some pregnancy books, then go to Lamicha's Infant Emporium on the south end of the city and start taking snapshots. You'll need pictures of cribs, rocking chairs, blanket sets and changing tables so you can go over them with Adora and pick out what she likes. I could go and try to nick the stuff from Maternity but I don't like you well enough to stick my tentacles out; get it yourself. You can take it all with you when you leave, but you'll need it here once the time comes.”

“You really won't let her go once the babies are born?” the Doctor worried.

Lunnie responded, “It'll depend on everyone's condition, but the babies will probably be here at least a month; longer if they're underweight. We'll also have to see how Adora's doing after the birth; she might get damaged during labor if she's too undernourished.”

The Doctor hung his head. “I didn't mean to hurt Adora; I just wasn't thinking . . .”

“Obviously not,” Lunnie snapped. “She's in her room; when we told her the news she said she wanted Doctor Brikk to tell you, but she didn't say anything about banning you or being angry. If she's angry, you will take whatever she dishes out quietly and manfully, that is if you truly are a man and not some squid off the streets. And I wouldn't blame her if she didn't want you around, so be happy if she does. Now go away; I don't have time for your deficiencies to slow me down.” 

Lunnie straightened the bow in her hair with trembling tentacles, then “walked” off.

The Doctor trudged slowly through the Psych Bubble until he got to the door of Adora's room. He squared his shoulders and rapped on the door. “Adora, it's me; can I come in?”

An arm reached out and pulled him into the room. “What took you so long?” Adora whimpered. “I was scared, I _am_ scared . . . Oh, Doctor, I'm _so_ scared . . .” 

The Doctor pulled Adora in close and held her. “I'm here, Love. The people here are going to help, and I'll be here, too. You don't have to go through this alone. Everyone will be here to help you; you don't have to be afraid. I'm here . . .”

“Lunnie said you knew I could bear children . . . did you?”

The Doctor went still, but couldn't bring himself to lie. “Yes, Love, I did.”

Adora lifted her head off the Doctor's chest. “Did you do it on purpose?” she questioned.

“No, not on purpose,” he told her. “I just forgot to tell you and then when we were making love I didn't think . . .”

Adora spoke low. “I'm angry with you. If I had known I wouldn't have slept with you; I want you to know that. You didn't think and now I have two lives inside me, lives that might die. I'm angry.”

“You have every right to be angry, Adora,” the Doctor agreed.

Adora still clung to him. “But you'll help? You won't go away?”

“I won't go away,” the Doctor promised fervently. “These are my children and you're my wife and I'm not going to walk away from that, Love. Not ever.”

Adora began whimpering. “What am I going to do? I know nothing about Gallifreyan pregnancy. You don't either . . . no one knows! How do we know if something goes wrong? How do we know what they'll need? What am I going to do?”

“We'll get through it together. I'll check the TARDIS databanks; you know they go back further than Omega and the opening of the Eye of Harmony. We'll find out and we'll be careful and we'll get through it together. Do you know gender yet?”

“Not for a few months,” Adora told him. “Even then it isn't definitive until right near the end.” She started to cry. 

“Hush, Love,” the Doctor soothed. “We'll get all the information we can and we'll do it together. The people here will help, and the TARDIS databanks will have it all listed and we'll do it together. You don't need to cry, Love. We'll do it together.”

He gently walked Adora over to the bed and sat down with her as she wept. Finally she stopped crying and hiccuped, “I didn't even ask—how was class today?”

“I can't remember,” he told her. “The phone rang, they said there was trouble . . . and I don't remember. I was scared, too.”

Adora started to shake. “They'll make you leave; it's late and they'll make you leave . . .”

“I won't go until you're calmer, Love, and then I'll come back tomorrow and we'll go over what the TARDIS databanks can tell us. Now, do you think you can sleep?”

Adora sighed. “I should, but I don't know if I can, not tonight.”

“I want you to try,” the Doctor urged. “I'll stay with you long enough for you to fall asleep, and then I'll go. You need to get your rest, especially now.”

He was already getting out her nightgown and slippers. Adora let him help her take off her clothes and get ready for bed, but stopped him when he went to tuck her in. “I'm angry with you. I don't know how long I will be, but I'm angry. Come back tomorrow with whatever you find, but you need to go now.”

The Doctor felt hurt, but he knew she was right. He had hurt Adora terribly, complicated both their lives, and had put children in danger. “I'll be back tomorrow,” he promised, then slipped out of the room.


	16. Chapter 16

16—Building Bridges

Lunnie was tired but she made every effort to conceal the fact as she worked on the computer at the nurse's desk. She had been promoted to Bubble Administrator four weeks ago and was trying to build a rapport with the night staff. When she got chosen they had complained that they got forgotten all the time and no one cared, so she was making a point to do a shift with them as often as she could. She was glad she had decided to take the night staff seriously; they had to do a lot of the jobs no one else wanted to tackle and unlike others might think, they _did_ do their share of patient care.

Take Adora, for example. She only slept two hours a week, so she was up all shift and needed a lot of attention. Her hormones were all over the place due to her illness and pregnancy so she spent almost all her time either angry, euphoric, or weepy. Her weight was always a concern, especially since she was supporting two little lives. The night staff tried to get her to drink two meal replacement shakes a shift, which took a lot of diplomacy and encouragement. Finally, she was always worried about her babies and whether or not they would make it. Her husband, the Doctor, drat him, spoke more about “ifs” and “maybes” rather than assuaging Adora's fears. If he had been more forthcoming about information when he and Adora were having sex this whole situation would have been avoided, but now he was being too free with things that might go wrong. She knew he was just trying to be honest but would it hurt him to be optimistic once in a while?

As she went to get some more tea, the auto-nurse signaled that someone was outside wanting to get in. She looked out and was surprised to see Adora's husband, a box in his hands. She usually wouldn't have allowed visitors on the night shift, but she was very curious about what he had brought and why he had come. She gave a reply to the auto-nurse, who let the Doctor in.

Almost immediately she smelled a delicious odor coming from the box and stood still behind the desk. The Doctor said softly, “I was hoping I could see Adora for just a few minutes; it won't be long at all . . .”

“What is in the box?” Lunnie asked, not able to contain herself.

“It's large fried butterflies with squid ink. I heard they were your favorite . . .”

“And what brings you to Adora's side this late at night?”

The Doctor told Lunnie, “Adora was agonizing over baby names earlier and I came up with just the right ones. I couldn't not share them with her . . .”

“And the bribe?”

“Think of it as a peace offering,” the Doctor said hurriedly.

Lunnie thought about it for a few seconds, then reached for the box. “Five minutes. And if you upset her it's the last time, understand?”

The Doctor nodded vigorously. “I won't cause trouble, I promise.”

Lunnie took the box out of his hands and told him, “She's in the Activity Room reading. Remember what I said.”

“Right. No trouble.”

Lunnie had just bitten into a second crispy wing dripping with ink when the Doctor came back to the desk, beaming and bouncing on the balls of his feet. “I knew she'd like the names . . . Are the butterflies how they should be?”

“They're excellent, thank you.” 

“Then my time here is concluded. Thank you for your understanding.”

Lunnie told the Doctor, “Don't make too great of a habit of this and I might let you in again.”

He gave a little wave as the auto-nurse opened the door for him, then stepped out.

Lunnie shared the butterflies with the rest of the night shift and was pleased to see Adora in a decent mood for once. She decided that it had been a good visit for everyone concerned and that she wouldn't necessarily be against another midnight appearance.


	17. Chapter 17

17—The First Touch

Adora finished chopping up the Jeckinav root for the evening meal, then added it to the pot of bubbling goodness on the specially designed stove top that wouldn't burn someone. She stirred, then put the lid on and let it simmer. She then realized she was hungry and only one thing would do. She put down the spoon, went to the nutritionist's cubby and asked politely, “Yarcoss, can I have one of my frozen, pickled hummingbirds on-a-stick?”

Yarcoss considered Adora for a minute then replied, “I don't like you snacking too much this close to a meal, but you can have one. Just don't eat the whole box like you did last week.”

“I won't,” Adora promised. “And can I get a coffee toffee bar for dessert?"

“That will depend on how much other food you take in. Now don't make that face, Adora—you know too many sweets by themselves spike your blood sugar up, which isn't healthy. If you can balance it out with proteins and fiber it's not so bad. Now go enjoy your hummingbird.”

Adora wanted to argue, but since Yarcoss was right she didn't dare complain. She hurried back to the kitchen and took the box of hummingbirds out of the freezer, trying to pick out what kind she wanted. It was hard to choose and even harder to stick to just one, but she knew if she ate extra the Doctor would be asked not to bring her more. Finally she decided on a plump Belnarn Red and put the others away.

She nibbled on her treat as she worked on dinner preparations: checking the stew, turning the black shark steaks, slicing the Cahoba melons. Yarcoss came in and helped her for the last fifteen minutes and then everyone sat down at the long, broad tables. The food passed from hand to hand around the table and she took a healthy serving of each dish. Most of the patients and staff ate quickly, but Adora was in no hurry to finish up. She ate everything but one melon spear, then asked Yarcoss low, “Coffee toffee bar?”

He laughed and replied, “Such determination! It'll be all right as long as it's a small one.”

Adora went to the cupboard where they kept her treats and took out a coffee toffee bar to munch as several of the other patients came in to wash dishes and put the leftover food away. The rule was if you cooked you didn't have to clean up as long as you were considerate about not leaving the kitchen a disaster. She was just about to take the first bite when she felt a strange tickle in the back of her mind. She dropped her snack on the floor, startled. A moment later she felt the presence again, this time more deliberate. She almost panicked, but then cried out in a joyful voice, “My babies—I can feel my babies! They're in my mind . . .”

One of the nurses came over to Adora and took her hand saying, “That's one of the things your husband predicted would happen, so don't be alarmed. Now you'll want to project to them, but be gentle about it.”

Adora concentrated on regaining the filament of thought that she had picked up moments before. When she had it, she thought of her joy and excitement and imagined it wrapping around her babies like a blanket to keep them safe. She felt the little separate tugs of the babies' minds as they reached out to her and she responded back in kind. She was so excited she forgot where she was and what she had been doing as she sent thoughts of love and peace to the tiny lives inside her. It wasn't until she felt someone tugging at her arm that she broke out of her trance and looked around. She realized that she was surrounded by staff, several of which looked a bit panicked. The nurse on duty for the evening was calling, “Adora? Adora, come back to the here-and-now. Come back, Adora . . .”

Adora shook her head to clear it then asked, “Can someone call my husband? He'll want to know . . .”

“He's already on his way; you had us a bit worried,” the nurse replied.

Adora checked her internal time-sense and found she'd been disconnected from the world for twenty-one minutes. No wonder they'd called him. “I'm all right,” she explained. “The babies were just so strong . . .”

Just then the Doctor dashed into the room, calling, “Adora? Are you—”

“I can feel the babies in my mind,” she explained. “I just got so connected I lost touch . . .” 

The Doctor told her seriously, “According to the information from my TARDIS you'll need that kind of contact several times a day. Nights would be a brilliant time and meals the worst, of course . . .”

Adora felt a little ashamed knowing that she'd probably pulled him out of something important. “I didn't mean to worry everyone . . .”

The Doctor took her hand and said, “It's not important; I can grade papers tomorrow night.” He then looked down and commented, “And it seems I stepped on your coffee toffee bar. Will I need to get you replacements?”

“I still have some left, so not yet. But I have a question—how strong will the connection between me and the babies get?”

The Doctor turned serious again. “Strong enough that they won't be able to survive in an incubator, so you need to be very careful.”

“I will be,” Adora responded fervently. “I'll be so careful . . .”

The Doctor hugged her close. “I'm sure you will be, Love. Now that I'm here, would you like me to rub your feet? I know they bother you when they swell . . .”  
Adora was already tugging at him. “That's an offer I'll never turn down—it's even better than frozen, pickled hummingbirds!”

They laughed together as they went around the Bubble to her room.


	18. Chapter 18

18—Moving Mountains

“This is a simple high-risk pregnancy; she needs to come down to the Maternity Bubble,” Doctor Ulgga insisted, waving a tentacle.

“There's nothing simple about Adora,” Lunnie argued. “You might have the requisite number of staff to provide for her round-the-clock but you don't have the relationship my staff have with her and so far you're ignoring the one person with any knowledge on how a Gallifreyan pregnancy works. The Doctor—”

“Is an arrogant, judgmental, smug, overprotective nuisance!” Doctor Ulgga snapped. “I do not need some young whippersnapper telling me my trade.”

Lunnie bit her tongue to keep from saying something she'd regret. She and Doctor Ulgga were the same species, but had absolutely nothing else in common. He was an officious, self-satisfied, narcissistic old windbag who never, ever made an exception to any rule no matter how slight or necessary. He just did not have the capacity to address Adora's special needs or to tolerate the Doctor's interference in what he thought was a “simple” case.

“Doctor Ulgga, the Doctor is older than both of us put together and if he says he knows what Adora needs, he knows,” Lunnie tried to explain. “Do you want to be dealing with an unbalanced, anorexic woman who almost never sleeps? Your people will be burned out within three days. We, on the other hand, have the patience and gentle touch this couple needs and I do say 'couple', they're a package deal. They have only a few months left to go; let us handle it.”

“I won't have some upstart second-guessing my medical know-how!” Doctor Ulgga roared.

“And I refuse to transfer a patient over to people that are completely unable to provide proper care!” Lunnie yelled. “Adora's comfortable with us. She knows us. She trusts us. Do you have the space right now to provide her with a separate room?”

“No,” Doctor Ulgga said flatly. “She'll have to share with—”

“Do you have the staff to take her down to the hydrotherapy pool each day?”

Doctor Ulgga squirmed a bit. “No,” he admitted, “but she'd be fine getting that service only two times a week . . .”

“Would she still be able to cook her own meals?” Lunnie pressed.

“You're spoiling her! That's all it is! She would get used to the regular patient routine perfectly well . . .”

“Adora has needs your staff simply cannot handle. She's not some humanoid with a condition requiring her to lie in bed all day. She is a complex, involved case and needs to stay in a nurturing environment. We can transfer her to Labor and Delivery when the time comes, but until then I'm not moving her without express orders from a Director, orders I will fight with my last tentacle!”

“I'll be back,” Doctor Ulgga promised, his tentacles twitching with rage as he headed for the door. “This woman is nothing but a pampered diva who needs to know she's just like any other female having a baby. She doesn't need to be handled with kid gloves; she needs a good spank on the hindquarters and I have no qualms whatsoever on delivering it! I'll be back!” 

Lunnie drew a deep breath and “walked” to the elevator, glad she'd thought enough in advance to make sure this meeting didn't occur on the Psych Bubble. Everyone would have heard and everyone would have gotten upset—patients and staff. Her only worry was that Doctor Ulgga had a lot of clout and there would be Directors out there who would go along with him just to keep him off their backs. She had meant what she said; she would fight any plan to transfer Adora out of the Psych Bubble, but she could only do so much. She sent up a quick prayer to the gods that the Directors would give a deaf ear to Doctor Ulgga's demands, then decided she couldn't take the chance; she would tell the Doctor. Not Adora; she was just too fragile at this point to subject her to a what-if that might not even come true. But the Doctor, he should know.  
She was lucky; the Doctor was just walking in for a visit, a container of something in his hands. She pulled him aside and whispered, “I need a moment; there might be a complication with Adora's care, but I don't want her to know if I don't have to tell her.”

The Doctor looked concerned. “Does it have anything to do with that pompous, ignorant, supposed 'doctor' who wouldn't listen to what I was trying to tell him about Adora's connection with the babies?”

“That would be him,” Lunnie admitted. “And there's a chance it will be taken out of my hands, but I will fight for you and Adora with all I have. I just wanted you to know it might be a battle keeping her on the Psych Bubble.”

The Doctor sighed. “Does Adora get any say?” he wanted to know.

“Unfortunately, she's at a disadvantage seeing as she's on the Psych Bubble; a lot of people will discount her feelings because she's 'crazy'. It's wrong and detrimental, but it's a fact.”

“What about my opinion, seeing as I am her health care advocate?”

Lunnie straightened the bow in her hair with two tentacles and said quietly, “With anyone else you might have a chance, but you are currently Enemy Number One in Doctor Ulgga's eyes. He's the Bubble Administrator for Maternity, so it's no use asking for someone else; he _is_ the 'someone else'.”

The Doctor shook his head. “What about a different hospital?”

“I'm sorry, but I can't in good conscience allow Adora to be transferred to another facility in the state she's in and I don't know of another hospital on this side of the continent that would take her. Like I said, I'll fight—”

Lunnie broke off quickly and said in a different voice, “I'm sorry I'm stealing your husband's time, Adora, but I wanted to touch base with him.”

Adora stomped over and said petulantly, “I want my chocolate and tiknothon liver truffles! You promised you would bring me more!”

The Doctor absently handed Adora the container then told her, “I need to talk to Lunnie for just a bit more; why don't you go put those away? You know you can't eat them all at once . . .”

Adora eyed the two of them suspiciously. “What's going on?”

The Doctor explained, “I just want to ensure you're getting the best of care and sometimes that means I know things before you do. You'll find out if it's important . . .”

Adora pouted, but went to put her truffles in the kitchen.

Once she had gone, the Doctor spoke rapidly. “If Adora has to be under the care of that moron and his staff more than twenty-four hours it'll be a problem. Isn't there _anything_ we can do?”

Lunnie shook her head. “Right now my tentacles are tied. Until I hear from one of the Directors that she's being moved I can't advocate for her staying here.”

“Thank you for letting me know,” the Doctor spoke softly. “I just hope . . .”

“Me too,” Lunnie agreed.

*****  
When the time came, Adora seemed to be holding up well. The Doctor promised he would take her paintings back to his TARDIS. The staff and patients threw Adora a little party and she promised to come visit once the babies were born. She even waved as she left the Psych Bubble in a wheelchair heading to her new home, her treats in her lap. They got off the elevator and headed to the Maternity Bubble, transfer papers in hand. They opened the door for her, wheeled her up to the nurse's desk . . . and everything fell apart.

“You're going to have to leave, sir,” one of the aides told them.

“What do you mean?” the Doctor demanded. “This is my wife, we just got here . . .”

“And you're going to have to leave,” the aide insisted. “Visiting hours are 6 am to 10 am and 2 pm to 4 pm only, unless the woman is in active labor, and it's 5 pm now.”

“Can't I even say good-bye?” the Doctor questioned, shaking with rage.

“Auto-nurse!” the aide called out and as quick as that the Doctor was escorted off the Bubble and Adora was alone.

She still tried to brave her way through it; she got to her room, got out of the wheelchair and sat on the bed while the aide left with the wheelchair. She smiled at the woman she was sharing a room with, placing her treats on the little table next to the bed. Before she could introduce herself, the matronly nurse from the Emergency Bubble her first day at the hospital hurried in. The nurse looked her up and down then said officiously, “All right dearie, we've got to get you into a gown; you can't be dressed like this in Maternity. All our patients wear gowns.”

Adora had never had to wear a gown on the Psych Bubble; regular dress there was either “street clothes”, or if the patients didn't have anything they wore scrub suits, colored differently from the staff so everyone could be told apart. It was beneath her to wear a gown. She was going to complain, but the Doctor had been very insistent that she follow all the new rules and be as cooperative as possible and she had promised. She meekly let the nurse help her into a paper gown though she was able to do it herself, then sat back down on the bed and watched as the nurse put her other clothing into a bag and set it aside.

“Now dearie,” the nurse said cheerfully, “time for a little rest. I'm sure you're tired . . .”

Adora wasn't the least bit tired, but decided this would be a good time to commune with the babies. She got under the covers with the “help” of the nurse, and curled up small in the bed. She was just going to start “talking” when the nurse noticed the boxes on the side table. “And what are these, dearie?” the nurse questioned. 

“They're my treats,” Adora explained. “I get to have them when—”

“Oh, no, dearie,” the nurse pronounced. “You are on a special diet; no treats or extras when you're not eating properly in the first place. Your tray will be up in an hour.” The nurse took the boxes with her as she left.

Adora fought back tears, but managed to stay under control; she didn't want to upset the babies and she had _promised_ to be good. She tried to get comfortable in the narrow hospital bed, then lost herself in the cocoon she made for herself when she spoke to her children. She “told” them they were loved and safe, that they were in a new place but that new places were exciting and fun. She didn't know if she was telling that to the babies or herself, but it seemed to help a little.

She was rudely jolted back to the here-and-now when the nurse smacked her on the back of the head and said severely, “What are you doing? Your tray got here five minutes ago; it's time to eat and you'd better be quick about it. We run a tight ship here on the Maternity Bubble. Let's go, dearie . . .” 

Adora took her fork in hand bravely then took the cover off her meal. Sitting in front of her was a plate piled high with starch and fat. There wasn't a vegetable to be seen, and she could hear her nutritionist's shocked gasp in her head. She forced herself to take a bite and regretted it; the food was tasteless, slimy and cold. She tried one more forkful, then pushed the tray away. “I can't eat this,” she whimpered.

The nurse looked down at her sternly. “Now dearie, let's not be difficult; you've got babies to feed. I'll be back in a half-hour and I expect that plate to be clean, understand?” 

Adora nodded, fighting back the tears. What could she do? There was no way she could eat what they'd sent, but she knew there would be trouble if she didn't . . . wait, there was a way! She looked over to her roommate who seemed to be asleep, then quietly got out of bed and tiptoed to the toilet, plate in hand. She scraped the food into the toilet, then snuck back and put the empty plate on the tray. She then went back to the bathroom and pretended to be using the toilet, flushed, and got back into bed with none the wiser. 

Half an hour later the nurse came in and piped cheerily, “Good job, dearie! I knew you wouldn't be a problem. Would you like me to turn on the Entertainment Grid for you?”

“Oh, no thank you,”Adora said hurriedly, but the nurse had already activated the screen and walked away. Now she was miserable, alone, and surrounded by irritating TV shows. She let herself cry a little then, but only for a few minutes. Her head ached and there were no books or treats or other things to do but try to block out the Entertainment Grid programming. She tried connecting with the babies again, but it was too loud and she was too upset. If she could, she would have turned off the incessant chatter, but the nurse had the only controls.

Restless, she got out of bed and looked out the window as the sun sank out of sight in an impressive array of light and clouds. It cheered her and gave her a bit of hope; it couldn't _all_ be bad in the Maternity Bubble. She listened to the sound of thunder, first off in the distance, then louder and louder as the storm got closer. She was going to try to be with the babies again, but before she could sneak back in bed the nurse came by and huffed, “All right dearie, back to bed with you. What were you doing sitting up like that?”

“My head hurts,” Adora admitted. “Can you please turn that off?”

“Poor dearie,” the nurse soothed. She turned the screen off and told her, “You just wait a minute; I'll be right back.”

The nurse returned a moment later with some pills and told her, “All right dearie, here's some aspirin for your headache. It should—”

Adora shrank back, frightened. She was allergic to aspirin; all Gallifreyans were. If she took it she would very likely die. “I can't take that,” she announced. “I'm allergic and it will—”

The nurse came closer with the pills. “Don't be difficult, dearie. We don't stand for any nonsense here on the Maternity Bubble. You may have been a princess on the Psych Bubble, but down here—” 

“It'll _kill_ me!” Adora screamed. “That's what you people want, isn't it? You _want_ me to die! You hate me, and my babies! You want to kill my babies!”

“Stop it this instant!” the nurse ordered. “No one—”

Adora wasn't going to wait another second in that nightmare. She bowled the nurse over and sprinted out of the room. Someone called out for the auto-nurse, but it was too far to get to her. She made it out of the Maternity Bubble and happened to find the stairs. She ran as fast as she possibly could to the ground floor and stopped for a second to catch her breath. As Adora was trying to figure out where to go, she saw a door marked “Fire Exit—Emergency Use Only”. Well, she considered, there probably wasn't an emergency bigger than this for her and the lives inside her. She pushed open the door and saw bright strobe lights start flashing as an alarm began to sound. She only hesitated a second before she ran out into the storm, free at last. 

*****  
The Doctor sat slumped over in the jump seat, brooding. He'd tried starting work on the TARDIS four times now, but couldn't get going. He knew he had to work on her, eat and grade papers and maybe even sleep, but he couldn't face any of it now. All he could think about was Adora, poor Adora. He had lodged a complaint as soon as the auto-nurse had let go of him but it was late and all the Directors were already gone for the day. He had thought of just materializing into the hospital and stealing Adora away, but the TARDIS wasn't ready yet and it would take a week of non-stop work before she would be. There was nothing he could do.

As he sat there, suddenly there was a banging on the doors of the TARDIS. At first he didn't move but when it didn't stop he got up, wondering what was going on. Who would be hammering on the doors? What did they want? How did they know that there was someone inside? Finally he marched over to the doors and flung them open, ready to start demanding answers . . . and only just managed to catch a sobbing Adora before she fell to the pavement.

“What!?” he cried out, bewildered. “Adora, what—”

“They want my babies! They want to kill my babies! Please, Doctor, don't let them kill our babies . . .”

The Doctor tried to soothe Adora, but he wasn't helping. She was soaked to the skin, her feet were cut and bleeding, and he couldn't get her to calm down, to understand that she was safe. He gently deposited her on the jump seat and grabbed the special phone, dialing the number for the Psych Bubble. “Hello? This is the Doctor, and I need to speak with Lunnie immediately; Adora's here, she's in bad shape and she won't stop crying . . . Hello? Lunnie, this is the Doctor; Adora just got here. She's wet and freezing, her feet are cut to ribbons, she's hysterical . . . I don't know what happened, she just started banging on the door . . . Are you sure? I don't want her hurt any more, but if she doesn't calm down she might hurt the babies . . . Okay, we're coming.”

The Doctor scooped Adora up in his arms and hurried to the hospital, his hearts in his throat. He never should have left her like that, not when she was so fragile. He should have insisted that she stay on the Psych Bubble and hang the consequences . . . he should have disabled the auto-nurse with his sonic screwdriver and gone back for her, he should have . . .

When he came through the front door, Lunnie was waiting along with Adora's favorite nurse. Lunnie reached over and took Adora's hand, saying, “Adora, it's Lunnie. We're going to get you warm and see to your feet on the Psych Bubble, where it's safe.”

“They want to kill my babies . . . they hate my babies . . .” Adora wailed.

“No one is going to hurt your babies, Adora, but you need to calm down so you don't upset them. Do you hear me, Adora? You have to calm down. No one's going to hurt your babies; we won't let them. Now you need to settle down . . .”

The Doctor carried Adora from the front door to the Psych Bubble speaking in Gallifreyan the whole time, hoping Adora would hear and understand. At last Lunnie and the nurse, Menemsa, calmed Adora a little, and they got her in the Psych Bubble without incident. Lunnie motioned to the Doctor, who put Adora down on one of the cushions in the Safe Room and covered her with a blanket. Menemsa rushed out of the room and came back laden with a basin of water, soap, a towel, a camera and a dermal regenerator. She took pictures of Adora's feet and then started washing them while Lunnie told Adora, “You're in a safe place, Adora, and no one's going to hurt your babies. The Doctor's here, Menemsa's here, I'm here . . . you're safe. Can you tell me what happened?”

“They want to kill my babies!”

Lunnie soothed, “Try to calm down, Adora; your babies are safe. Start at the beginning, from when you left here. What happened right at first?”

“They made the Doctor go away . . . then they made me wear a paper gown . . . they took away my treats and tried to make me eat cold, nasty, fatty food . . . the nurse hit me and it was noisy and awful . . . and then they tried to kill my babies!”

“How were they going to kill the babies, Adora?” the Doctor asked, trying to keep himself under control.

“They were going to make me take aspirin. I told them no but they wouldn't listen . . .”

The Doctor stood up, naked fury on his face. “I'll be right—” 

Lunnie grabbed the Doctor by the arm and hauled him back down. “ _You'll_ be right here with Adora making sure those babies are all right. I will be making phone calls and threats and Menemsa will see if Adora left any of her treats here. Are we all clear?”

Menemsa finished healing Adora's feet and hurried to the kitchen. The Doctor nodded and held Adora in his arms. “Try reaching out to the babies, Adora; they must be upset . . .”

He waited a long time until he was sure Adora was in a trance, then put her down and marched out of the Safe Room, headed for the door. Lunnie was on the phone with someone, and he could tell she was furious. “I don't care! I now have a traumatized patient on my hands all because your staff couldn't be bothered to read a chart correctly, _if_ they read it at all! If she'd taken that medication she'd be dead now and her babies with her. No, I will _not_ calm down! I have an allegation of abuse, blatant disregard for a nutritionist's clear orders and a patient who ran out in a thunderstorm and cut her feet to shreds rather than stay on your Bubble! I've already called three Directors and have them out of bed and on their way here and I won't sugarcoat it for _them_ either, and I don't care what excuses you make, you knew what you were doing was wrong. You were heartless, cruel, and wrong! You're lucky I don't give her husband your street address and let him deal with you himself; I'm certain he'd jump at the chance. What? Come in or not, as you please; the damage is already done.”

Lunnie slammed down the receiver with a tentacle, then noticed the Doctor. “I'm not letting you out of here,” she said quietly. “You may be angry, you may be livid even, but your place right now is in that room with your wife and babies. Three Directors are on the way and you can say your piece when they arrive, but you're not leaving. Going down there won't help matters and you'd just be thrown out by the auto-nurse again. Trust me Doctor, this isn't over. Go to Adora.” 

The Doctor sighed mightily, but went back into the Safe Room and watched over Adora. Menemsa brought out a coffee toffee bar Adora had left behind and gave it to him as she cleaned up from healing Adora's feet. Once Adora was done communing with the babies she had a snack and then curled up in the Doctor's arms.

By the time the Doctor had to leave for work the next morning, everything was settled. The three Directors had listened to Lunnie, heard his story and seen the snapshots of Adora's feet. They had spoken to Adora in her room until she got to the part about the aspirin. She started bawling then and they left in a hurry. She calmed down soon after they left though, and the Doctor felt safe knowing that the Psych Bubble staff would be there to help Adora until he got out of his last lecture. He still wanted to go down and deal with the cretins on the Maternity Bubble starting with the auto-nurse, but Lunnie had convinced him that it would only make things worse for Adora. He left the Psych Bubble and rushed to class, confident Adora was in good hands.


	19. Chapter 19

19—Tender Moments

The Doctor finished his lecture on quantum chromodynamics and took a few minutes answering questions from his eager students. He then announced, “There will be a test at the beginning of next week on this material and everything from the last three classes. It's a lot to cover, so please make sure you study and have a good grasp of the fundamentals. I will be in my office tomorrow from seven until seven, but I will not be babying along those of you who haven't bothered to turn in homework—and you know who you are! Make sure you've got the assignment for next time written down and you are dismissed.”

He gathered up the homework papers his class had turned in and went to his office to drop them off; he would grade them during his office time the next day. He checked his phone messages and returned the really important calls, then shut his office door and headed over to the hospital to see Adora. She hadn't bounced back yet from her ordeal five days before, so he spent as much time with her as he could without neglecting his job. The college was very understanding, but there were still some things he just had to do.

As he walked to the hospital he stopped by a vendor of fried butterflies and got two boxes of the delicacies, one with powdered sugar and one with squid ink. Adora didn't care for them much but he knew that most of the staff on the Psych Bubble did and he wanted to show his appreciation for all they had done for her. Juggling his cargo, he set out again.

He did his familiar procedure with the auto-nurse and stepped inside the Psych Bubble calling out, “I brought everyone a snack; get them while they're still flapping!”

Several staff came over and started opening the boxes. He saw Adora's favorite nurse and asked, “Menemsa, did Adora come out of her room today?”

Menemsa sighed. “She took a shower and got a massage but she still won't leave the Bubble, not even for the hydrotherapy pool. She eats, but not enough and only in her room. I tried to work with her but she seems like she's pulled into herself like a black hole and nothing can move her.”

The Doctor's face fell but he said, “Maybe I can help her along.”

He tiptoed to Adora's room and peeked in. She was lying on her back on top of her covers with her eyes closed. He walked over to the bed, sat down and rubbed her baby bump until she opened her eyes. “I'm here, Love. Talking to the babies?”

Adora answered low, “No, just . . . I want to go to sleep.”

The Doctor was worried; the staff said Adora was sleeping a lot lately. She had even lost a few pounds and everyone was concerned she would have a full-blown relapse. He decided to be blunt with her; she needed to be brought back to reality. “You're not doing well Adora, not at all. I know you've had a trauma, but our children are counting on you to stay healthy. You're not a baby, Adora; you're a mother and you have to _be_ a mother and snap out of this . . . whatever it is. Everyone's here to help you. Pick yourself up and get back on track.”

Adora whimpered, “You don't love me—you don't care! People were mean to me and were going to hurt our babies, and all you can say is 'pick yourself up'? I've been through an ordeal! I deserve—”

The Doctor said firmly, “You deserve comfort and encouragement, I know. But you also deserve to be treated like an adult. If you're having trouble dealing with what happened then paint or journal or talk to someone, Menemsa or your therapist or even me, but don't sit here and rot.”

Adora sniffed and whined, “I'm scared to go anywhere; they'll find me and take me back. If they know I'm here, they'll take me back!”

“Everyone already knows you're here, Love. They can't do anything about it and won't do anything about it; they're too afraid of a lawsuit to mess around with your care any more than they already have. You wouldn't be here if I didn't think you were safe. They're even bringing up what they'll need for the birth so it can be done here. You don't need to worry, Adora; you're safe.”

He took her hand and said cheerfully, “I got some more pictures of baby things the other day; do you want to work on that?” 

Adora sat up, considering. “We could . . .”

The Doctor set up his holographic camera and screen, and they spent a few hours searching, admiring, and even arguing over the choices available. Adora refused to entertain the Doctor's wish for a Menoptra-themed set-up and the Doctor said he wouldn't stand for his children being surrounded by Ood, but they both agreed on ditching the Judoon. At last they decided on Metaxsis  & Menaxsis items and started discussing clothing.

Later in the afternoon one of the nurses went to Adora's room to check on her and found the Doctor and Adora curled up against each other, backs to the door, naked. He went his way after closing the door as softly as he could, and walked to the next patient's room.


	20. Chapter 20

20—The Main Course

The Doctor hurried into the hospital and took the stairs instead of waiting for the elevator. He dashed to the entrance to the Psych Bubble and waited very impatiently for the auto-nurse to do its job. As soon as the inner door was opened he rushed in calling out, “Adora? Where's Adora? What about the arrangements?”

A nurse told him, “They set up the temporary birthing pool in the conference room; there wasn't enough space anywhere else. It's all curtained off and everything . . . even sound barriers, but Adora's in her room at the moment.”

“Why her room?” the Doctor demanded. “She needs to be birthing!”

Lunnie came to the desk then and responded, “You said labor would take four to six hours, and that the first pregnancy might be longer than that. Adora doesn't need to be lying in a birthing pool all that time; the midwife says she should move around for right now. It'll calm her down a bit and give her something to focus on.”

The Doctor scowled. “I don't like it; Adora should be communing with the babies and making sure they're ready . . .”

“Alsbeth read the same information you did and thinks this course of action is best at this time. You agreed that she would take the lead seeing you have never helped someone give birth and that it's her full-time job.”

The Doctor started pacing back and forth nervously. “I know I did and I won't make a scene, but I thought . . .”

Lunnie snapped, “You thought we didn't actually mean it, is that what you're trying to say?”

The Doctor turned a bit red and looked guilty. “No, not . . . not really . . .”

“Then know your part and play it!” Lunnie scolded. “You will be holding Adora's hand and encouraging her and Alsbeth will give the instructions. And if you start trying to boss people around I will kick you off this bubble and you'll miss the big event. Do you want that?”

“Of course not!” the Doctor protested, turning even redder.

“We will therefore stick to the plan. Adora's been 'talking' to the babies so you don't need to be concerned. She keeps telling them about the 'adventure' they're about to have and how exciting things will be. We're monitoring the babies as well as Adora, so we'll know right away if something's wrong. The birthing pool is set up, there's a neonatal specialist waiting in the wings and everything's as prepared as can be. Do you want to see Adora now— _without_ upsetting her?”

“Yes, I want to see her,” the Doctor replied.

Lunnie straightened her hair bow and led the way to Adora's room. Adora was sitting in the rocking chair with the midwife rubbing her feet; she told the Doctor, “I thought you would never get here . . .”

The Doctor knelt down next to the midwife and said, “I can do that, Alsbeth . . .”

Alsbeth looked a little annoyed, but let the Doctor take over. She looked at her watch and said, “Adora, you should start walking around again; can you handle it?”

Adora nodded. “I'm ready . . .”

The Doctor helped Adora to stand and then offered his arm. Adora said crossly, “I can walk perfectly well on my own; you don't need to get in my way.”

“Sorry, Love,” the Doctor answered. He sat down on the bed and watched Adora walk laps of the room. “Is there anything I—”

“Everything's under control right now, Doctor,” Alsbeth assured him. “Just take a seat for now and we'll let you know when there's a job for you.” 

After about twenty minutes Adora started breathing hard, grimacing. The Doctor wanted to run to her, but forced himself to stay on the bed; he would probably annoy her if he tried to step in. He watched as she sat down in the rocking chair and rocked hard for a few minutes.

Alsbeth asked quietly, “What's your pain level, Adora?”

“Seven,” Adora answered tightly.

Alsbeth explained, “You need to hang in there as long as you can, Adora; we talked about how the pain medications would affect you and the babies. If you can't take it we'll do what we have to do, but bear it to the last minute, okay?”

“Okay,” Adora grunted.

Alsbeth directed, “Let's move you to the birthing pool, Adora; you might feel better once you're in the water.”

Adora was awkward as she tried to get up from the rocking chair. The Doctor couldn't stand it any more and rushed over, saying, “I can help you, Love . . .”

Adora didn't answer in words, she just squeezed his hand hard as he helped her to her feet and walked with her to the birthing pool. Once she was settled comfortably Alsbeth did a check and told everyone, “It's going to be at least another hour, but I think we're here for the duration now. Adora, I want you to try and talk to the babies, see how they're doing.”

Adora went into her trance while Alsbeth said low, “That'll keep her as comfortable as she can be for now. Like I told Adora, pain meds are a last resort, especially if they make her groggy; that could easily scare the babies. It's too bad Gallifreyans are allergic to so many medications . . .”  
“We're sensitive!” the Doctor protested. “Don't let the heightened immune system and double hearts fool you; Gallifreyans are just as mortal as any other living creature, just in different ways. Our bodies can fend off some of the most deadly cancers in the Universe, but leave us for forty-eight hours without water and we're done for. Speaking of which, as soon as Adora 'wakes up' she should probably have some fluids . . .” 

“I have an electrolyte/hydration solution standing by,” Alsbeth assured. “Actually, I have three—orange, licorice, and coffee.”

“She'll love you for that,” the Doctor agreed. “One question—did you figure out gender?”

“I did,” Alsbeth replied cautiously, “but Adora didn't want to know, so I really shouldn't tell you. Besides, we'll know soon enough, right?” 

The Doctor was going to complain but didn't; in an hour or so it would be a moot point. He sat still for forty minutes, then told Lunnie, “Thank you for going to all this trouble. I mean, all the other patients . . .”

Lunnie shrugged. “We're well below capacity right now anyway, but even if we had a full house I wouldn't let her go back down to Maternity if the Psych Bubble was on fire. You should disable their auto-nurse on your way out just to get even.”

The Doctor smiled wolfishly. “Don't encourage me; I just might do . . .”

Suddenly Adora came out of her trance with a gasp. “It burns . . .”

“That's the second amniotic sac, Adora; it's to lubricate you for the birth. It shouldn't be long now, so breathe like I taught you.” Alsbeth got Adora to drink, then looked at her watch and told the Doctor, “You're up, happy father! Hold her hand and help her through.”

The Doctor crouched close to Adora's ear, took her hand and started talking in Gallifreyan while she moaned and breathed in the rhythm she had learned. She wasn't screaming, but it was easy to tell she was in pain. He just let her squeeze his hand as he told her, “You're doing brilliantly, Love. Not too much longer, you're doing so well . . .”

Within twenty minutes, the first baby arrived, crying loudly. Alsbeth checked it over quickly, then reported, “A healthy boy. One more to go, Adora; you can make it . . .”

The second baby was a bit more difficult, but Adora pushed hard and it popped out, squalling. “Another boy, Adora. You've done well. Now we just have to wait for the placentas . . .”

The Doctor held up a cup for Adora to sip from, then put the cup down to lay the boys, wrapped in blankets, in their mother's arms. She looked at her babies and asked the Doctor, “Which one is which?”

The Doctor wiped Adora's face with a towel, then pronounced importantly, “The left one will be Thalmidor-Gregsithhupanarison, Thalmidor, and the other will be Kepalte-Kenarnatisilbashon, Kenarn, just like we planned. Good, strong Gallifreyan names. Oh, what a gift, Adora! Two little baby Gallifreyans, the first in a _very_ long time. Look what you've done! It's absolutely brilliant.”

“It wasn't just me, Doctor,” Adora corrected. “They wouldn't be here without you. We did this together. And now can I get out of this water?” 

Alsbeth told her, “I want you to rest for at least ten minutes and then we can get you out.” The midwife handed the babies over to the Doctor and told him, “You can take the boys to Adora's room and we'll be right along. She needs a moment . . .” 

The Doctor took his bundles to Adora's room and sat down in the rocking chair with them, both boys already looking up at him with great concentration. He rocked as he spoke to them in Gallifreyan, telling them how brilliant their world would be, how they would see the Universe just as soon as Mother got well, how loved they were. He rocked back and forth with them, happier than he had ever been in his lives. He had been stifled and restrained the first time he had been a father, but this time it would be different. Now he and Adora could raise their boys properly, could show them the love and affection their first children had never experienced and all from the moment of their birth. It would be all of them together, a proper family. It would be perfect, he told them, all together.


	21. Chapter 21

21—A Dream Fulfilled By Half

The Doctor proudly held the twins while Adora packed up the last of her things. It had been four months since they had been born, and already they were crawling and exploring their world. They slept three hours a night, were eating like baby whales and were doted on by staff and other patients alike. The only small cloud in the Doctor's sky was Adora and her reaction when he came to visit. She was brilliant with the twins, but there was something strange in her dealings with him, something sad and secretive and held back. Adora had completed her program and was now at a healthy weight, but there was something not quite right. He was worried she might be developing postpartum depression or relapsing, but all the doctors and staff were unconcerned when he brought it up. He tried to ignore it, but it ate at the back of his mind. 

Lunnie too, seemed changed. Their relationship had started off rocky and had progressed well, but now she was going out of her way to cater to him and encourage him to spend time with the twins constantly, no matter how busy everything was. She even let him stay at the Bubble a few nights a week and put in a comfortable chair for him. He would have taken more advantage of that liberty but he was spending his time working like mad on his TARDIS. He had resigned his position as an instructor the week before; the college had begged him to stay for another semester but he was a family man now and he had obligations. He wanted to get Adora back to Earth as soon as possible so they could decide what to do with two TARDIS-es. He wouldn't want to let his go of course, but Adora would insist that her craft would be safer for a family than his worn-out but trusty companion. It would hurt, oh how it would hurt, but he had to put Adora and the twins first. Part of him was whispering that he didn't want to lose his TARDIS, didn't want be tied down, that a family would complicate who he had always known himself to be, but he kicked that voice into a corner whenever he heard it too loudly.

They loaded up the baby supplies into a trans-dimensional box for easy transport, got all of Adora's artwork situated on top somehow and headed out for the last time. Adora held her head up high as she said goodbye to everyone, twins in her arms, and the Doctor felt very proud of her. She had done a lot of work to get to this stage, to true recovery. As Adora said goodbye to Lunnie, the octopus gave her a huge hug and said quietly, “You can be strong, Adora. You can do anything, especially when you know what's right. Do what's right, Adora, and let no one stop you.”

She then turned to the Doctor and told him, “The same goes for you, Doctor. Do what's right, but don't hang on to what you have no business reaching for. For example, avoid short-circuiting the Maternity Bubble's auto-nurse on your way out.”

“I will restrain myself,” the Doctor promised, grinning. “Ready, Adora?”

“I'm ready,” Adora replied, and walked out the door with the babies, the Doctor a step behind with their cargo.

They got to the Doctor's TARDIS, which was all ready for travel. They put Adora's paintings next to the jump seat, with the trans-dimensional box nearby. He pulled out the playpen for the twins while Adora sat down on the jump seat looking weepy. He looked over at her and said cheerfully, “No need to worry Adora, she'll get us safely back to Earth and we can use your TARDIS; I'm willing to make the sacrifice if it's what you need.”

Adora didn't answer. She went over to the playpen and sat down with the twins, talking to them quietly. He couldn't hear what she was saying, but didn't worry about it. He set the coordinates and then went over to Adora's side and stroked her hair as she manipulated some toys and held them out for the twins to grab. “We'll be there soon,” he told her, “and then we can sit down and plan things out.”

“There's something I want to give you,” Adora said suddenly. She walked over to her suitcase, got out a small box and handed it to him. “It's pictures, tons of them. Some are of the boys alone, some with me and the boys, and even some with all of us, just so you can remember. I have a box too, so I can remember . . .”

The Doctor was pleased. “I won't need reminders, not with us all together, but we can make a scrapbook so the boys know how it all started. Now isn't that clever of you, Thalmidor! You're doing a good job standing up . . . and even a step—brilliant! Now don't go tripping over Kenarn; he's not quite ready for walking yet, but maybe in a few days. And Kenarn, you shouldn't fret; late bloomers bloom brightest. You'll get there . . .” 

Just then his TARDIS landed with a little bump. The babies squealed in surprise, but didn't seem frightened. Adora calmed them and took them out of the playpen so she could put it away. The Doctor asked, “Do you want them in the stroller? That grating's hard on little legs . . .”

“Yes,” Adora agreed, “if you can get it out . . .”

The Doctor got out the stroller and deposited the twins in it, first Kenarn, then Thalmidor. They didn't seem happy but they didn't fuss so the Doctor left it at that. He helped Adora fold up the playpen and put it in the trans-dimensional box with the other supplies. He opened the door for Adora and she wheeled the twins out.

Once they were in the open air he realized how chilly it was. It was fine for Adora and himself; they could control their metabolisms to stay warm, but the twins couldn't yet. He asked Adora, “Do you remember where your TARDIS is?”

She told him quietly, “It's this shed right here.” 

“Then put the boys inside while I grab some things; it's too cold for them out here. They'll be all right on their own for a few minutes while we get everything in.”

Adora wheeled Thalmidor and Kenarn into her TARDIS, then came out and helped the Doctor move everything into Adora's craft. Adora then set the playpen up for the twins and had the Doctor put them in it, insisting that he take some time to play with them and hold them close. He played with Kenarn and Thalmidor and chatted with them in Gallifreyan while Adora stood back and watched. She didn't join in though the Doctor invited her; she took a few pictures but didn't get involved. “Is there anything else we need?” she asked after an hour.

“There's some things I want to get from my TARDIS, but it won't take long.”

The Doctor hurried into his TARDIS and grabbed a few changes of clothing, then rushed to his room and took a picture of Susan that he had always loved. He left everything else knowing if he took too much time he'd want every little thing and it would take forever. He gave the console a pat and told his TARDIS, “I'll miss you, old girl; you've been absolutely brilliant. We've been together for a long time and I'll miss you terribly, oh so much, but I have to go. It's Adora and the boys, you see. I can't leave them, not now, and you're just not what you used to be. Maybe once the boys are grown we can come back and I can teach them how to fly you. I won't forget you and I'll try to make it back, but it's the boys and Adora now; they need me. I hope you can forgive me . . .”

He swallowed a big lump in his throat and left quickly.

When he came out, Adora was standing in front of her TARDIS with the door closed. She was very still, tears flowing down her face. He came over to her and asked, “What's wrong, Adora? It's all right that we take your TARDIS, it'll be much safer for the boys and—”

Adora spoke faintly but steadily, “You're not coming with us.”

The Doctor felt his hearts drop straight into his toes. “What? What!?”

“You can't come with us, Doctor. I'm going away and I'm taking the boys and you can stay here or go wherever you want to go, but you can't come with us.”

“What are you doing, Adora? How can you do this? We're going to be a family; we're—”

Adora spoke with a little more strength. “You're trying to do what everyone's always tried to do—run my life for me and take my choices away; you're just nicer about it. You want us to be a happy family traveling through the stars, but it just won't work. I don't want to be dragged through the Universe as your sidekick and I won't let you do it to my children. You're the Oncoming Storm and that won't change, not with who you are. I want stability and quiet and safety and you can't give me that and it's not fair for me to ask. You're meant to be a wanderer, not stuck on a planet pining your life away.”

The Doctor felt as though someone had taken a spear and twisted it into his core. “I just did it! I did it for almost _two years_ , Adora! I stayed on Yamexibon and had a job and helped you . . . didn't I help you? Didn't my sacrifice mean anything?”

“That's just it, Doctor—sacrifice. You would have to sacrifice your life and dreams if you stayed with me to make me happy and I'd have to sacrifice my life and the lives of my children to stay with you and make you happy. It won't work; the cost is too great for both of us and the boys too. I want my children to know the Universe is a safe, predictable, stable place where they stay on one planet in one town and grow up away from all the things that make you who you are. I won't stay here; it would be too cruel to lock you out of the planet you adore so much. I'll find a place out of the way somewhere, one where the boys can grow into whatever they want to be. I won't let them forget you, I promise . . . I'll talk about you all the time and tell them how wonderful you are, explain that I sent you away, that it wasn't that you didn't love them . . .”

“I'm their father!” the Doctor objected, tears falling fast. “How can you take that away from them? They have the right to know me, to—”

“Here is what we shall do. In a hundred years, I'll come back here and they can choose for themselves if they want your way of life. They won't even have regenerated yet. Maybe you'll even forgive me by then, but right here and right now we are leaving and doing it without you. The thing is, I do love you. I know you don't believe it right now, but it's true, and I know you love me and would give it all up for us, but it would be wrong. I talked with Lunnie about it—she said I had to do what I thought was best. That's why she let you stay overnight and spend all your time with the boys; she knew what I was going to do.”

The Doctor was astonished and crushed. “You knew all along? You _planned_ this!?”

Adora told him earnestly, “Honestly, no. I decided right after they were born; I swear I didn't think of it until then. I saw them and thought about what you would want, who you would want us to be . . . and I couldn't do it.”

“Adora, please . . .” the Doctor begged, falling at her feet

“Goodbye, Doctor. Remember, only a hundred years. I'll be back in a hundred years, this very spot and we'll see who I've become, who you've become. The boys will know all about you, I'll make sure. They'll know how much you love them.”

Adora turned and stepped into her TARDIS. The Doctor wanted to run after her, to stop her from leaving, but he couldn't. He heard the Hensua's voice, and her prediction. He could hear Lunnie's voice telling him not to grab what he had no business reaching for. He could hear the little voice in his head saying it was all for the best, that Adora was doing the right thing, that he would have sacrificed too much. He could hear when Adora's TARDIS fired up and dematerialized, and finally he heard nothing but the wind whispering in the trees. 

Devastated, he got up on shaky legs, opened the door of his TARDIS, stumbled to the jump seat and sobbed.

***** Sequel to follow: Hundred Years' War *****


End file.
